Admonitions to the Winds and Stars
by Carrie Swinton
Summary: Bright Star series. Hermione is glad to have her best friend back, and now even Draco Malfoy seems to be turning a corner. Lacie is caught between pleasing her mother and finding her own future. Draco has never felt freer now his parents have separated and wants it to stay that way. What else will third year reveal? AU of POA.
1. The Book I Opened

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

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 **Admonitions to the Winds and Stars**

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Adapted from a line in the poem, " _Hyperion"_ by John Keats

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 **Chapter One: The Book I Opened**

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"When shall I look for thee and feel thee gone?  
When cry for the old comfort and find none?  
Never, I know! Thy soul is in thy face."

Robert Browning from _Any Wife to Any Husband_

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 _ **Witch Weekly**_ **:** _ **Society**_

 _We at_ Witch Weekly _were astounded to hear the sudden separation between Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy (née Black) for reasons unknown. This cataclysmic event follows a series of unfortunate events for Lucius Malfoy since the decision to part ways with the Board of Governors of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, following outrageous reports of blackmail within the Governors spearheaded after the alleged opening of the fabled Chamber of Secrets. Mr and Mrs Malfoy have been married since a young Narcissa Black graduated from Hogwarts, in a beautiful union that was orchestrated between the parents of the pair. They have been happily married in a love story of the decades until this summer. The stunning parents have two equally attractive children, Draco Lucius and Lacerta Andromeda_ , _both whom attend Hogwarts (some even speculate that the fission was linked to Lacerta, who was at the epicentre of the Chamber of Secrets scandal). Narcissa has since relocated to France with her daughter, and we only hope her recovering heart heals in the country of romantics. We wish the best of luck to Narcissa, and to those who are keen to jump on the coattails of dear Lucius needn't bother! Sources have reported that he is awarding his estranged wife some space before he attempts to win her affections again. This is a romance story for the ages, and we will fervently report as the story progresses._

x-x-x-x-x

"This is the life."

Hermione peeked over her book and watch as Lacie stretched in her sun lounger, kicking out her legs to soak up as much blazing sun as she could, large sunglasses adorning her face. Hermione didn't see the point, they had been sunbathing for two weeks now and Lacie hadn't even tanned in the slightest. Hermione, on the other hand, hid underneath a large parasol and slathered sun cream all over her body every so often before returning to her book.

It had been two weeks since Hermione had arrived on the doorstep of a remote French villa in the Southern areas of France with her parents following a personal invitation from Narcissa Malfoy. At first, Hermione had treated the invite with trepidation, but her parents had urged her to go. They would most likely be very busy over the summer, and as much as they would miss her, she would probably have more fun in the company of her best friend.

Hermione wasn't worried about Lacie's company, however, it was her brother that Hermione couldn't stand.

Ever since Hermione Granger had the misfortune to stumble into Draco Malfoy's carriage on the Hogwarts Express and made the ill-informed decision to tell him of her parentage, he had been nothing short of insufferable. If Hermione had thought for one moment that having his sister as her best friend would ease the tension, it simply made things worse. Malfoy had made her life a living hell, and seemed to take great pleasure in trying to rid the world of her. The passing year was only testament to his will, poisoning her with Doxy venom under the guise of being her friend and parading his desire for her to lose a staring contest with a basilisk. Hermione snorted as she thought about it, she had thwarted his plans, and come out on the better side.

He underestimated Muggle-borns, that was for sure. Just like Voldemort, and just like Salazar Slytherin. Most of all, he had underestimated her, just like her childhood bully. Hermione wasn't scared of Malfoy, just as she was no longer scared of Lauren, but she hadn't been for years.

It was his rhetoric that she found more frightening, and the lengths that he and his _friends_ would go to achieve it.

Considering Narcissa Malfoy had married into the family, and her husband had been the so-called reason why the Chamber of Secrets had been opened in the first place – Hermione was reluctant to forgo Ginny Weasley's part in it all, but as Lacie had repeated over and over again, the girl had been possessed – Hermione was unwilling to go to her villa in case the Malfoy intolerance of her would continue. It hadn't happened yet, but Hermione treated the woman with a pinch of salt, that is, if Narcissa ever left her room.

On the day of Hermione's arrival, Narcissa had played the role of gracious host impeccably. Hermione knew that it was a part of her strict training, the archaic ritual that children of 'proper' families went through in order to conduct themselves in a proper and orderly manner in the Wizarding world. Lacie was the perfect paragon beside her mother, and prepared tea for the Grangers as they sat in the drawing room to discuss details of Hermione's stay. Lacie then showed Hermione around the villa and to her room.

It was a breath of fresh Mediterranean air compared to Malfoy Manor.

Everything was carved out of light-coloured marble, and seemed to make everything seem light and airy, which was a stark contrast to the stuffiness of Malfoy Manor. Rooms flowed seamlessly into each other, and the furniture seemed comfortable, despite looking as if no one had ever used it before. Lacie directed Hermione to their side of the house, and opened a door to the room Hermione was to stay in.

After Hermione had managed to scrape her jaw off the ground, she looked around the room. In comparison to her room when she had stayed at Malfoy Manor, everything was a soft cream colour, except for her bedsheets, which were a pale blue. Masses of pillows were placed on her bed, which made her wonder how she was going to sleep with all of them on the bed. Her hand glided over the large dressing table, where a pretty lamp sat. Hermione had quirked her eyebrow at Lacie, who revealed that although the house was owned by the Malfoy family, it was rented out to Muggles from time to time.

"But don't your family detest Muggles?" Hermione had asked, "I thought the Malfoys would have bathed in their dirty blood, not do reputable business with them."

Lacie had forced a smile before explaining, "If you go back far enough, the Malfoys made their fortune from dealing with Muggles, it was only after the passing of the Statute of Secrecy where Malfoy-Muggle relations went into decline, but my mother wanted a house in France and my father gifted one to her. What she does with it when she is not here is her own business."

Hermione had nodded and dropped her single suitcase in the middle of the room before following Lacie out into the grounds. By the time they had finished exploring the grounds and the vast swimming pool, her parents were due to leave and they held Hermione close to them before thanking the Malfoy matriarch profusely and making their way to the door. Narcissa welcomed Hermione for a second time, and told her not to hesitate to ask her for anything before excusing herself.

Lacie had sighed at her mother's retreating form, and told Hermione that her mother was good at hiding her pain, but it was a rare sight for her to leave her room.

"If she's so upset, why would she leave your father?" Hermione questioned, staring at the archway that led to Narcissa's quarters.

"Because her children are important to her, and because I refused to return to the Manor and spent any time with _that man_ ," Lacie said, and Hermione knew that her best friend was trying to keep the sad tone from her voice. At that point, Hermione's stomach had grumbled and Lacie had fretted about her manners and ran towards the kitchen and Hermione followed.

Hermione, whilst aware that this house had been remodelled for Muggle usage when the Malfoys were not staying there, was still shocked to see how much it looked like one that one would find in a mansion. A marble island stood in the middle, and everything else in the kitchen were varying shades of cream and silver. Hermione knew what every appliance did, of course, and Lacie walked towards the island before calling out, "Sandrine!"

There was a loud crack and a small house-elf had appeared, dressed in a clean, cream silk dress. Hermione instantly recoiled and gave Lacie an accusatory look. Lacie rolled her eyes before speaking to the elf in rapid French, and the elf nodded and started preparing food. Lacie had then turned to Hermione, who clearly was uncomfortable with the idea of being waited on especially after knowing Dobby, and assured her that Sandrine wasn't doing anything she didn't want to. Sandrine was a free elf, but as most elves are, they are loyal to the families that raise and own them. The elf was part and parcel of the house, and Sandrine was more than happy to volunteer her services. Lacie also added that they also had a Squib housemaid, Anaïs, so Hermione was not to fret if she saw another unfamiliar face.

After that, every day had been full of the same activities. Hermione normally breakfasted alone as Lacie had her daily ballet lesson, and went out to read in the sunshine. Every so often, she would catch herself staring at the still pool, which was paved with the same marble that ran through the house, and her gaze skimmed the grounds that extended for several acres. Sometimes a small breeze would distract her, and Hermione revelled in the scent of summer. Her favourite day so far was when a gardener had arrived and spent half a day cutting the grass, Hermione would have basked in the scent all day if Lacie had let her. Lacie always joined her mid-morning, and would spend the day lounging in the sun. Occasionally she would pick up a book, and do a little of her summer homework but most of the time, she soaked up as much sun as she could.

When the air chilled, Hermione and Lacie would go back into the villa and talk about the upcoming year over dinner. Lacie would drag Hermione around different parts of the house and ask her to explain various appliances and listened carefully when Hermione explained its function. Lacie had found the idea of electricity interesting and seemed to grasp the concept quickly, before adding that her mother was too unfamiliar with the contraptions that lay around the house and preferred candles and magic.

Hermione was, however, fascinated at how things weren't exploding in their midst. She had always known that electricity was one of those inventions that interfered so strongly with magic that it rendered one or the other almost useless. An abundance of magical energy seemed to cause electrical currents to run wild, which was why thunderstorms at Hogwarts were almost legendary, captivating and deadly at the same time and an abundance of electricity seemed to draw out the worst of a witch's or wizard's magical core and made it harder for a magical person to control themselves, especially when they were in a foul mood, and amplified any magical power. It always explained why Harry found it difficult to control his magic when he was younger, and Ron, Hermione and Lacie often found themselves cackling at the stories their friend told them. Hermione explained this to Lacie who had pondered it over her dinner before sharing what had been thinking.

"Maybe because magic is so old and innate that it cannot reconcile itself with the new world so refuses to work with electricity," Lacie had said.

"Just like how purebloods can't reconcile the notion of Muggle-borns?"

Lacie had pointed her fork at Hermione, "Not _all_ purebloods hate Muggle-borns."

"I concede, and I think maybe you're right. There has to be balances in the world, you know positive and negative, old and new, magic and electricity," Hermione had replied as she took a sip of her juice.

That had been a week ago. Hermione realised that she hadn't spoken in a while, and had not responded to Lacie's comment. The time had passed, though, and Hermione continued to read her book again. No sooner had she found her sentence again, a towel was thrown at her.

"Hermione, we are on _holiday_. We should relax and sunbathe and do nonsensical things."

"We sunbathe and relax every day," Hermione complained. "I always read, too, and you've never had a problem with that before."

"Did you even know that we have a swimming pool here?"

"Yes," Hermione sighed, "And...?"

"Oh, I would not have thought you noticed since you spend all holiday so far with your nose stuck in a book."

"I haven't seen you swim _once_ ," Hermione snapped. "Also, I'm trying to forget the unpleasantness that will be this afternoon."

Lacie rolled her eyes dramatically.

At first, Lacie had been emphatic in her approach, Malfoy had chosen to stay at the Manor over the holidays and her brother had no intention to come over and join them. Hermione had been content and happy with that, as she wanted to be nowhere near Malfoy until she was forced to be near in him their shared classes at Hogwarts. Even though their House tables sat at the opposite ends of Hogwarts, even that felt too close for Hermione's comfort.

Then a few days ago, on the rare occasion that Narcissa had graced them with her presence at dinner, she dropped the news that Malfoy was going to join them and was to be arriving in a few days – today – and spend the remainder of his holidays with them. Unaware of the heinous deeds of her son, she had asked both girls to welcome him in open arms and Hermione had stomped sourly back to her room. She had paced back and forth over the idea, and knew she had to pack her bags and go home. The last thing that she wanted to do was sunbathe and sip drinks with fancy umbrellas garnishing them whilst laughing in the summer sunset. She didn't want to play games, or discuss the news or talk about their upcoming year at Hogwarts and what subjects they had all chosen. She wanted to leave, immediately.

It was at that moment that Lacie had strolled into her room to explain the situation, and Hermione had let loose. Hermione demanded to know when Lacie was going to tell her that Malfoy was going to be visiting, and how long Lacie was going to keep it a secret, was she going to wait until Malfoy was sitting in the dining room one night and feign ignorance.

To her credit, Lacie had not balked and had defended herself, telling Hermione that she wasn't aware that her brother was going to come, and she wasn't going to scare Hermione off by saying so. He had made it clear at King's Cross that he was going to stay with his father, and for a time it seemed as if he was enjoying his time at the Manor. She didn't know what had made him change his mind but Hermione had to just deal with it.

" _Deal with it?"_ Hermione had exclaimed in a shrill voice, " _Need I remind you about what he did to me?"_

Hermione also added that even Lauren – her childhood bully and tormentor, in case Lacie had forgotten – wasn't as malicious as Malfoy. Lacie had visibly winced before apologising over and over before asking Hermione to give Malfoy a chance to at least redeem himself.

 _I would rather forgive Professor Snape for all of those points he took away from me for merely breathing in class._

Lacie assured Hermione that she really wouldn't have to spend time with Malfoy, and Lacie would make sure her brother would stay out her way, if she really wanted him to be. Hermione didn't want to be in speaking distance of her brother, and made it clear that Lacie was lucky that it didn't extend to her for not even mentioning the slightest chance that Malfoy was going to be staying. Hermione was determined to return home, but she was too tired to throw a Lacie-like tantrum and furthermore, Draco was arriving on Friday. If the notion of Malfoy being there was truly unbearable, she could always message her parents to pick her up on the weekend. It was abrupt, but her parents would understand. Narcissa had promised all those weeks ago that she could ask her for anything.

"I would not call my brother unpleasant," Lacie said. "Seeing as he and I have some sort of resemblance."

"Explains a lot," Hermione muttered, and Lacie threw another towel. Hermione wondered under her breath as to where Lacie seemed to get all of her fluffy weapons. Next to her stood an exasperated Anaïs, who had just laundered some towels and offered them to Lacie. Lacie had merely thrown the fresh towels at her friend, and Hermione apologised on her behalf. Lacie looked up at the maid and spoke in quick French. She went back to reclining in the sun. The maid dropped off a plethora of magazines, and Lacie stared at them. Hermione returned to her book, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Lacie reach for the topmost one and flick lazily through it.

Something in the magazine had caught her attention, as she whispered angrily under breath before slamming the periodical onto the table again. Hermione glanced over.

"Bad article?"

"Anyone who writes the articles in _Witch Weekly_ is a moron," Lacie snapped. " _Attempt to win her attentions again_ , my arse. Mother would be an idiot to be wooed by _his_ pathetic charms."

"If you hate it so much, why would you read it?" Hermione asked.

"Because I'm _bored_ , all you seem to want to do is read that stuffy textbook."

"I like being prepared," Hermione said. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Hermione, we are in one of the most beautiful places on earth, we do not need Arithmancy theories to appreciate that."

Every few days or so, Lacie would antagonise Hermione by lamenting about how much Hermione preferred to read in the shade rather than sunbathe, or swim or go around the village and do some shopping. At first, it was irritating and Hermione humoured Lacie and asked her what she wanted to do. Her friend only wanted to relax in the sunshine in her two-piece bikini and devour drink after drink delivered by her house-elf, whilst discussing ideas with Hermione, especially about their new subjects that they were going to take. Hermione picked Lacie's brain about Divination, her friend having already had a little experience in the subject and Lacie often quizzed her about what she thought was going to be on the Muggle Studies curriculum. However, Hermione found simply lying in the sun _boring_ , and Lacie didn't really want to swim. Hermione knew there was a deeper reason than not wanting to mess up her hair, but she didn't want to press it.

After arguing the last time about how Hermione found lying in the sun boring, and Lacie had stormed off into the house, Hermione knew that she was to concede and bear whatever uninteresting task Lacie wanted to do. Hermione rolled her eyes before folding a corner of the page she was reading and closed the book with a snap. She placed it on the ground next to her sun lounger.

Hermione folded the corner of the page she was reading and closed the book with a snap and placed it on the table.

"Happy?"

Lacie didn't speak to her as she called the house-elf to her. After weeks of convincing herself that Sandrine was volunteering to serve the Malfoy family, Hermione had relaxed at her presence and listened as Lacie spoke to her.

"Sandrine, encore un limonade pour ma copine et moi, s'il vous plaît," she said kindly. The house-elf nodded slightly and turned away.

"Et moi, Sandrine."

Hermione looked up and saw Draco Malfoy saunter outside as he took off his thick outer robe, clearly anticipating a cooler temperature. He threw it onto a chair beside him and undid several buttons of his shirt before rolling up his sleeves. Hermione watched as he squinted in the burning sun, before looking and smiling at the girls. He waved at them before saying, "Bonsoir."

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 _A/N: Hello my lovelies, I am back! I know I said end of August, but I got the date of my assignment deadlines mixed up and since they're all handed in voila, the third instalment of the Bright Star series. If this is the first story you've read, I wholly suggest you go back to the first story: Bright Star and begin from there, this is the third story which will be an AU of Prisoner of Azkaban. If you're too busy reading the_ Cursed Child _and want the cliffnotes version, Lacerta/Lacie is an OC who is also Draco's twin sister, Hermione's best friend, a Gryffindor, receiver of the last ten points in PS instead of Neville, part of the group that went into the Chamber of Secrets etcetc. However, for contextual reasons for Lacie's certain character traits further along in the story, I do suggest givin_ _g the last few chapters of_ Bound By _a little read. Just a little._

 _Also I_ have _read the_ Cursed Child _but I won't allude to my feelings on the matter just in case you haven't._

 _If you read Bound By before, with this story as I am still currently writing it, I will be uploading only ONCE as week every Thursday at a time of my choosing or at least I'll try and keep to that schedule but as I've written quite a lot already (I hope without the need for re-editing all over again). Story openers in this story are courtesy of Robert Browning._

 _As always, happy reading._

 _CSxo._


	2. Hope Beyond Measure

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

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 **Chapter Two: Hope Beyond Measure**

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 _Oh, what a fancy ecstatic  
Was the poor heart's, ere the wanderer went on-  
Love to be saved for it, proffered to, spent on!_

Robert Browning from _Misconceptions_

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An instantaneous rush of adrenaline filled Hermione, and she knew that her fight or flight reflex was preparing itself. On one hand, she wanted to punch the living hell out of Malfoy – because yes, she bloody well despised his presence – and on the other she wanted to run to her room, lock the door and hide under the bed. There was a third option, which is the one that she opted for, was to freeze in her seat and not reply.

 _And here in France this afternoon is a clear display of that infamous Gryffindor courage. The demonstration is being conducted by none other than Hermione Granger, as she remains immobile in her seat_ , an acidic voice said sarcastically in the back of her head. Hermione regained her wits and grabbed for her book. She turned to the page with the folded corner and buried her head in the textbook.

Next to her, Lacie had hopped out of her lounger and walked towards her brother. _Traitor_. Hermione really wanted to read the book that she was forcibly holding in front of her face but she couldn't resist a peek above it. She watched as Lacie peck her brother enthusiastically on both cheeks, the word 'traitor' repeating itself in her mind again as she stubbornly went back to her book. Hermione knew that between family and acquaintances, it was commonplace for them to kiss each other when greeting each other. Hermione felt repulsed at the idea of being in breathing space of Malfoy, let alone let him kiss her on the cheek. She had expected Lacie to do the same, but it seemed as if her friend had different loyalties.

Then again, Malfoy wasn't _that_ much of an acquaintance.

"How was the journey?"

"I will never get used to long distance Portkeying," Malfoy said rather coolly.

At that point, Hermione realised how much had changed in the year that had passed at Hogwarts, in fact, since they had both started Hogwarts. The first time that Hermione had met them, they had always looked so similar but now, even the expressions on their faces were different, Lacie had a perpetual smile on her face and even if she wasn't happy there was always the ghost of a smile. Malfoy, just as when Hermione had first met him, wore an uninterrupted mask, and Hermione could never deduce his intentions or emotions, not that she ever wanted to. Their differences didn't end there, though, Lacie's hair was blonder, probably from all of that sunbathing she did. Malfoy was taller, towering his sister by at least a head, and considering that Lacie was slightly taller than Hermione, Malfoy would only look down on her. _Bloody fantastic,_ she though to herself, as _if he doesn't already._ It wasn't merely just a difference of appearance, but even their mannerisms opposed each other.

Malfoy was an archetypal Slytherin, and seemed more indifferent than Lacie. Even when he had kissed her on the cheek, it seemed overly formal and as if he was conducting a ritual, instead of greeting his sister. Lacie had ran up to him, and would have leaped into his arms if she wanted and grinned as she embraced her brother. When he patted her on the head, she seemed to lap up the attention and grinned at him. She was becoming the unreserved Gryffindor that her father would hate to bear witness to.

Their father was most likely the source for their divergence. Lacie had made it clear that she didn't care for their father or his opinions, but it was always clear the Malfoy favoured his father's opinions.

Malfoy then turned his attention to Hermione with his arms outstretched, "What? No warm welcome for me?"

Hermione, not wanting to exchange niceties, muttered, "You wish."

Malfoy's gaze moved from Hermione to the small table next to her, and before Hermione could hide herself behind her book she thought she saw him smirk.

"Did you read the article?"

Lacie snorted, "Of course I read that rag, I wish I had not though - it was utter drivel."

"You are just irked because they printed your middle name," Malfoy laughed.

"Partly, what kind of name is _Andromeda_? What was mother honestly thinking?"

Hermione flicked a page in her book, reading as she listened to Lacie talking to Malfoy. Malfoy snickered at Lacie's comment but suddenly sobered. He muttered something that Hermione couldn't quite hear before walking away. Lacie flopped into her sun lounger and turned to Hermione, who had watched Malfoy walk into the villa.

"You could at least try and be civil to him."

"You could at least be a better friend, you know that he tried to kill me."

"When in France…" Lacie said tailing off but she had found the sun and closed her eyes, ready for another hour of lazing in the sun again. Hermione rolled her eyes and returned to her book again, and it seemed that Lacie had no complaints this time.

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie and Hermione rarely dined with the matriarch of the Malfoy family, but today seemed to be an exception. If the Malfoy matriarch was not hosting guests or announcing the arrival of unwelcome guests, she was normally wallowing or hiding in her bedroom with her curtains closed. She barely left her room, and Sandrine attended to her most of the time. If there wasn't an ever-changing scent of burning incense, Hermione would have doubted that there was ever anyone in the room to attend to. Hermione supposed that the estrangement between her and her husband was taking a toll on her. Hermione noted that the woman's eyes were perpetually hollow, and she seemed to rely on several pieces of furniture to even stand up.

Narcissa Malfoy was falling apart, and her trip to France was to hide that from the rest of the Wizarding community. Merlin forbid a woman of her stature to be seen so _weak_ , after all.

However, today she graced the head of the table with her son and daughter beside her. She stared adoringly at her elder child and fussed over him. The boy didn't want to be fussed over, but only made it known infrequently. Hermione noted that as uncomfortable as Malfoy looked, he wouldn't push his mother away, or the food she kept piling onto his dinner plate.

Hermione knew that the woman had invited her to stay, almost as if an apology for the actions of her husband, and she knew rationally that Narcissa would never hurt her. That didn't stop Hermione feeling uneasy in Narcissa's presence. There was always something so cool and calculating about the woman, and Hermione was only biding her time before Mr Malfoy's distaste for her would influence Narcissa too.

"How is your father?" Narcissa asked quietly, after she had finished fussing over Malfoy. Hermione noted in the corner of her eye that Lacie sat up stiffly in her seat at the mention of her father.

"He is… coping, he is without a job, wife, children or a house-elf so he feels like a pauper. He mostly spends his time in his office ready to gain political influence when the time is right," Malfoy answered as he cut into his food. He didn't look at his mother as he did so.

Lacie snorted, and was on the receiving end of a nasty glare from her mother.

"Your father may have made some mistakes, but he is still a very smart man," Narcissa scolded.

"A smart man would not have been bested by two twelve-years in his _smart_ plan to rid Hogwarts of its Muggleborns, one of which is sitting in this very room."

"Your father made a mistake…"

"Is that what he fills his letters with? Do not think I do not see the plethora of owls that appear every day, Mother. Is that what you do all day? Pore over his love letters as he pathetically tries and wins your affections again? You are not a silly little teenager again, you are my mother -…"

"ENOUGH!" Narcissa's hand slammed on the table, and her errant magic blasted through the room, smashing the glass cabinets and the ornaments in them. Dogs in the distance howled, and Hermione could hear a slight ringing in her ears. She wasn't the only one, as Malfoy was grimacing and rubbing his ears. Narcissa lifted her hand slowly, and there was a gouge in the wood where her wedding ring slammed into the table.

Hermione watched as the woman took a shaky, but deep breath before standing up. Narcissa seemed to pull her wand out of thin air and waved it, and everything that had smashed repaired itself before them. She placed it gently on the table and rested on the table with her fingers splayed out.

"Your father made a mistake," Narcissa repeated herself, before Lacie had interrupted, "I do not forgive him for what he has done, but he is still the father of my children and for that I still care."

Hermione could tell that Lacie was still in shock from her mother's magical outburst and nodded into her food. Narcissa sat down. Hermione didn't have to be a mind reader to hear what Lacie was screaming in her head. _Her parents will always favour Malfoy, and Lacie would always be the outcast._ She also didn't have to be Lacie's best friend to know how Lacie felt, perpetually jealous that her brother was the golden child. It wasn't hard to see why, though, Malfoy had been doted on the moment he had arrived by his mother, and had always been spoilt. Lacie on the other hand, had been sent away and even when she sided with her mother, didn't seem to receive an iota of Narcissa's affection.

"Now that Draco is here, I hope that everyone will be cordial to each other. I refuse to have conflict in this house," Narcissa looked pointedly at Lacie and Hermione.

"If Draco promises not to poison my best friend, I will happily play the role of doting sister."

Lacie's outburst was so symptomatic of her envy of Malfoy being treated differently that Hermione didn't even flinch. She knew that if Narcissa hadn't known before, Lacie would use that fact sooner or later. Narcissa turned to Draco, her blue eyes flashing with anger as she did so.

"What does she mean, Draco?"

"Tell her, Draco, tell Mother how you poisoned Hermione with Doxy venom and told the entire school how _sad_ you were that she had only been Petrified, because the world would have been better off without her," Lacie goaded.

Narcissa's wand rattled on the table along with the silverware, and it was clear that Narcissa's patience was wearing thin. Draco was glaring at Lacie. Hermione was also shaking with anger. She hadn't known the last part, whether or not Lacie was saving it for when she was hurting and wanted to have one up on Draco, Hermione didn't know. Hermione was reeling from anger.

 _How dare she convince me to stay in a villa with someone who said the world would be better off without me? How dare she not even tell me?_

"The Doxy venom was only a joke -…"

"A joke?" Hermione found herself shrieking, "I nearly died!"

"But -…"

"I suppose having a great, big, murderous snake after me because of my blood wasn't the most dangerous thing, after all, I should have been more worried about you!"

Lacie was wincing as Hermione shouted across the table at Malfoy. Narcissa was simply glaring at her son, not saying a word, as it seemed that Hermione was saying enough for the both of them.

"Me? At least I tried to save your life, what exactly did Potter do?" Malfoy exclaimed across the table suddenly.

Hermione stood up in indignation. "Save my life? How? After how much you wanted me dead last year, why even bother?"

Malfoy stood up in response, "How many times do I have to be reminded of how much of a bloody idiot I am? I am sorry I played an awful practical joke on you, and I am sorry I said some unforgivable things. It is not the Malfoy way to apologise as we are so damned proud, but here it is, all on the table. What more do you want from me?"

Aside from Narcissa's small chastisement about Malfoy's language, she and Lacie remained silent as Malfoy spoke. Hermione was slightly taken aback by his small tirade but his words seemed to swirl in her mind and they only made her angrier and angrier.

She looked at Narcissa before saying, "I'm sorry, but may I be excused?"

Hermione didn't even wait for an answer before she stormed out of the dining room and towards her room. She knew that she was running away from her problems, again, but she had no other choice. She couldn't stay in the villa with _him_ , he who so casually admitted to his part in poisoning her and handing out a half-hearted apology when he was caught out. She was even more infuriated by the suggestion that he had somehow saved her life. Hermione scoffed. If putting her in the Hospital Wing early so the basilisk wouldn't get to her had been his plan all along, he had failed miserably. She had nearly died twice last year, and instead of doing something proactive like Harry had, he merely wished her dead and stated the world was a better place without Hermione.

 _Who even says things so… wretched?_

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie made to stand and run after her best friend, but a hand on her own stopped her. She looked up at her mother, who was not looking at her, but rather, at Draco.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," her mother said, in a voice so calm but deadly as she glared at her son, "Is all of that true?"

Draco seemed to shrink under his mother's gaze and could not speak. He merely nodded meekly, and did not raise his voice at her. He had sat back down after his little outburst, but at least he had the decency to look mortified. Lacie only sat and watched as her mother berated her only son.

"I have never felt more ashamed to call you my son," Mother whispered, but her words spoke volumes. "How many times do I have to tell you that Miss Granger, is a friend of this family and you must treat her as such?"

Draco seemed to have found his voice, "But she cannot be, you know of her stock - …"

Mother's other hand curled into a fist, as if she was trying to control herself, and refrain from slapping her son across the face. Draco's eyes darted nervously towards it, but he need not have worried, Narcissa Malfoy did many things, but smacking her children was not one of them. Her hand relaxed as her breathing calmed.

"Your father thought those same things, but where is he now? You said so yourself, he is without a job, a wife or children, do you want to be just like your father when you grow up? If you do, I will send you straight home."

Draco looked taken aback for a moment, and glanced at Lacie. Lacie wore only a stony expression and stared back.

"But - …"

"I truly regret spoiling you as a child," Mother interrupted, "If I had been harder on you, just as I had been with Lacerta, I may not find myself feeling like a failure of a mother."

"I - …"

"You," Mother interrupted, "Will go and find Hermione and convince her to stay, if she does not wish to stay whilst you are here, you will go. I refuse to have her leave because you have wronged her."

"Yes, Mother," Draco said as he stood up.

"Maybe a better understanding of Muggles may do your compassion some good," Mother added, "I think adding Muggle Studies to your studies this year would help that."

"But, Mother -!"

Narcissa's eyes flashed dangerously as they flickered towards her son, "Or you could go home."

"My timetable is already so -…"

"You _will_ do it, Draco," Mother said, before waving her son off. "Now, see to Hermione. _Immediately_."

Lacie watched as her brother closed his mouth and angrily walk out of the dining room to their end of the house. Lacie did not know if Draco knew which room Hermione was in, but he would soon find out. Lacie turned to her mother, who had taken her hand off Lacie's.

"Mother?"

It was Lacie's turn to be glared at.

"Why did you not tell me this sooner?" her mother hissed at her, "You should have written to me about this the _moment_ that it occurred."

Lacie's mouth fell open.

 _How has this turned onto me?_

"Well, I did not know that he was the one that poisoned her with Doxy venom until a month or so ago," Lacie admitted after composing herself, "The other thing was so… horrid, that I just could not repeat it. I am also not proud of what I did after he said it."

"What did you do?" Mother asked, and she almost braced herself for the answer.

"I may have… slapped him across the face."

Mother took a moment to process what Lacie had said and she took a deep breath.

"That is not proper decorum for a pureblood, especially one who has been trained to your standards, Lacerta, what were you thinking?"

Lacie could not take it for a moment. She thought about everything that had happened over the dinner, and the past year. She was not jealous of her brother, but at the same time, the way that her mother seemed to prefer him over her despite his shortcomings, angered her. Yes, her mother was a failure. How did she expect Draco to act? She had failed to execute the balance, because she urged her children to act within the remit of being a _good_ pureblood.

 _What did that even mean?_

"Here lies your hypocrisy! You chastise Draco for not being tolerant of Hermione in one breath, but are quick to note the proper behaviour of a pureblood in the next! No wonder we are confused as children, you cannot place us on a pedestal and expect to act properly as if a Muggle-born automatically acts inferior, because it only emphasises the difference! I bet you have my marriage planned, to a _proper pureblood_ , one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

Lacie scoffed as she said ' _Sacred Twenty-Eight'_ , she hated the notion. She hated that stupid list of families that were better than the rest, and she hated how her mother had once denigrated the list only to seem proud of her inclusion on it.

"No," her mother said quietly.

Lacie stilled for a moment. "What?"

"No, I do not wish for you to marry one into a family of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," Mother said, her voice barely a whisper. "The reason why I have always taught you to be tolerant of everyone, no matter what is in their blood was so you would never be tempted to marry into one of those families, no matter how much your father wished it so."

Lacie's eyes went round as she listened, hanging off every word that her mother was saying.

"I was from one of those families, and I had a mother who thought blood was everything: _toujours pur,_ she would say to me, and I saw what that thinking did. Half of my family were Death Eaters, the other half were disowned, and I vowed that I would never pass that thinking onto my own children.

"But you are not just any pureblood, and you may not be the heir to this family, but you are a _Malfoy_. On the outside world, you represent this family and I will not have you act like a wildcat, is that clear?"

Lacie nodded, and her mother's lips drew into a rare smile. "I suppose I was too hard on you, and taught you to reject the way of thinking that our family is known for, and that was selfish of me, though it could have been much worse."

Lacie did not answer her, and watched as her mother started to eat again. Her mother looked deep in thought before excusing Lacie, before complaining about the electric lights interfering with her emotions to Sandrine. She thought about everything that her mother had said, and she realised that Hermione's concerns about her mother was not just paranoia. There was something about her own mother that seemed to be shrewd, but considering her mother had been a Slytherin, that was not a surprise.

 _What did she mean, it could have been much worse?_

As Lacie rounded the corner towards Hermione's to check up on her, she only found her friend staring blankly in the corridor, her mouth slightly ajar. Lacie's brows furrowed instantly.

"What is the matter?"

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione would happily admit that she had not been nice to Malfoy. In fact, she took that admission back. Whenever Malfoy seemed to want company in the library and bothered her, she had always tolerated him and shown him a degree of civility. Whenever he wanted to get away from Parkinson or Crabbe or Goyle, and she was alone in the library, he had always come to her even though it was below his station to do so. _How could he even say something so horrible about me? I have always been polite, and treated him as if he was the brother of my best friend._

Hermione moved about the room as if she were some sort of wild gazelle and started to pack up all of her clothes and books into her battered suitcase. As she threw stuff in the direction of her suitcase, her thoughts turned on a new target. _How dare my best friend not even tell me he had said that?_

"Stop."

The voice had been so quiet that Hermione didn't hear it the first time, and it took a pair of hands on her own and someone physically stopping her to still her.

"Stop."

Hermione stared at the hands on hers and looked up and saw pools of silver looking back at her. She withdrew her hands as if she had been burned and narrowed her eyes. She continued to stuff clothes into the suitcase sitting on her bed. Malfoy sighed and started taking things out.

"Please, stay."

Hermione rounded on him, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "Why?"

He ran a hand through his blond hair and sighed, "Because I want you to stay."

"Funny, because the world seemed better off without me a few months ago."

"You-you… I would not have said it if you had not stolen my sister from me!"

Hermione almost choked on her own breath, " _Stole?_ Your sister isn't a possession, maybe if you gave Lacie the time of day instead of letting a silly House rivalry get between you, then she would want to spend more time with you."

"I accept that, now will you stop packing and stay for the rest of the summer?"

"How can I live with someone who so vocally wants me dead?" Hermione asked, throwing a t-shirt into the suitcase, which Malfoy promptly removed. Hermione went over and started putting the clothes that Malfoy was taking out back into the suitcase. He only kept taking them out. Hermione started feeling slightly frustrated.

"We technically live together at Hogwarts," Malfoy said after a while. "Do you mean to say you will move schools because you do not want to live with me?"

"I know that whilst I'm in Gryffindor Tower, you'll not be able to stab me to death."

"You exaggerate, Hermione."

Malfoy's usage of her given name staggered her for a moment. She had never heard him call her anything other than 'Granger' or 'Mudblood'. Her shock caused her to momentarily pause and Malfoy utilised this to drag the contents out of Hermione's suitcase onto her bed. Hermione's eyebrows furrowed as she frowned at him.

"I get the point, Malfoy."

"Draco."

"Excuse me?"

"You are in my family's residence. Everyone here is a Malfoy, so you should call me Draco, out of politeness."

"Have you been told to play nice by mummy, or she'll pack your bags back to Malfoy Mansion?" Hermione asked as she raised an eyebrow at him. It was getting harder and harder to discern Malfoy and his intentions. On one hand, he wanted her dead more than anyone and on the other he was insisting that she stay in the villa with him and his family.

"Manor," Malfoy corrected, "If that is what it takes for you to stay… Mother was furious, and told me to make amends or I was to leave. I want to stay here, so… and I know I have been an arrogant git or whatever you wish to call me so I will do anything to make you feel comfortable, as I would any other family friend."

Hermione didn't know what had happened so far in Malfoy's summer, but even she knew that it must have been unpleasant for Malfoy to come grovelling at her door _. He must really want to stay_.

"I see."

"So you will stay?" Malfoy questioned.

"I suppose."

"Thank you," Malfoy smiled awkwardly, and Hermione wasn't sure if it was a genuine smile or not, "Would you like some help putting your room back together?"

Hermione looked around the rather large room that she was staying in during the summer, and no amount of mess seemed to even affect the cleanliness of it. It was the opposite of Gryffindor Tower, where a simple tie being cast aside was enough for the girls to argue about the clutter.

"I think I can manage," Hermione replied.

"Then I will leave you to it," Malfoy said, taking slow but long strides to the door, he placed his hand on the door handle, ready to close it before turning to her. "Er… it is proper social etiquette to kiss a guest goodnight…"

"Mal-… Draco…" Hermione said, correcting herself at the last moment. "I think it would be best not to."

"Of course. Well, goodnight Hermione."

He turned to close the door after himself but Hermione stopped him for a moment. Another thing was bothering her, and it wasn't Malfoy casually calling her by her first name, or him pretending to be nice so that he wouldn't be carted back home to his father. She walked up to him.

"When you said you tried to save my life…"

Malfoy turned to face her and regarded her for a moment, before looking somewhere above her head and behind her before chuckling to himself. He didn't answer her, but instead pulled on her arm and held her against him. It wasn't like before, when he had coolly interacted with his sister in greeting. He was holding her, as if he didn't want to let her go, or he was glad she was alive. Hermione's observation had been right, he towered over her, and her face was buried in his shirt where she could hear his pounding heartbeat.

After a moment, Hermione took a frantic step back and she was standing so close she could feel his breath, and watched as his eyes slowly opened. He looked at her, grey eyes onto brown and then chuckled again before patting her on the head as if she was a dog. Hermione didn't know what was so funny. He also hadn't answered her question, and didn't seem to want to either as he walked away.

"When we go back to Hogwarts, we will be Granger and Malfoy again, won't we?"

He didn't turn around, but at least this time he answered her.

"We shall see."

x-x-x-x-x

Draco thought that the journey to Granger's room had been nerve-wracking and once he had done apologising and convincing her to stay, the knots in his stomach would ease. They did not. What had he been thinking? One moment he was walking away and the next he was holding her against him. He felt that this was such familiar territory. He had tormented himself enough the previous summer, for kissing her on the cheek, and now he had done it again. He may not have kissed her, but there was something more… intimate about the way he had held her.

He collapsed into his room and fell onto his enormous bed.

He did not know what had possessed him in the first place, she had merely asked him a question and he had intended to answer it with an aloof answer and walk away, but _no_ , he just _had to_ hug her, and then pat her on the head before running away like the pre-pubescent teenage boy that he was. He was surprised he was not writing an owl to Theo about how he had Mudblood cooties at the moment.

It was just, when he saw the mirror on the desk in her room, amongst the books and pieces of parchment scattered all over her desk, a woolly sort of sensation came over him and he was no longer in control of his actions. He wanted to show her affection and hold her close to him. He shuddered at the thought, he really needed to get a grip over himself. Did he not want her gone after all?

Draco did want Granger to leave, but after Mother had been so livid with the antics of his second year that he was forced to apologise or risk being sent home to Malfoy Manor. Draco pretended that he had enjoyed his time with his father but he had not. He had pitched the idea of going to France to his mother's to his father as a way to get mother back, and Father had jumped at the thought of it. Little did the man know that Draco had little intention of reuniting his parents. They were better separate. Draco did not want his mother to face the wrath and frenzy that was Lucius Malfoy.

At first, Draco thought that it would help if he went to Theo's every other day but his father soon put a stop to that. Draco was to study and better himself, and be a proper man. Draco was to learn the proper ways to be a pureblood, and to denigrate anyone inferior. Draco was to recite the names of political men and their weaknesses, the anti-Muggle legislation, and so on and so forth. Draco was a man of the house, and was to act like a proper Malfoy, no, his sister was not a proper Malfoy and had she sided with him she would have had it twice as bad.

His father had gone mad.

When Mother had asked Draco to apologise and make amends with Granger or else he would be sent back to the Manor, he would have kissed Granger's feet to stay. He accepted all of his mother's conditions, although Draco did not know what benefits of adding Muggle Studies to his curriculum would have, but he would anything not to go back to the Manor.

He knew that his father was trying to force Malfoy prejudice and pure blood ideology into him but it was having the opposite effect. Draco was starting to question why it all even mattered. He groaned.

Draco's gaze fell onto his wand on his bedside table. He could not forget what had happened a few months ago in that little broom closet, and every time he thought about his summer so far, that incident was never far from his mind. He reached for his wand. However, he pushed those thoughts away as his door slammed open. He placed his wand back on the bedside table.

"Why are you such a prat?"

"Lacie, it is late and I am tired."

"This cannot wait," Lacie said as she bounded over to Draco's bed and sat on it.

"Nothing ever can," Draco said as he sat up. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked at his sister. Draco wondered if his sister would have really have been mistreated by Father. She was looking more and more like their mother every day, except for her eyes. Lacie and Draco both had their father's grey eyes. Despite that, the striking resemblance between Lacie and his mother was sure to win favours from Father. Lacie tucked her blonde hair behind her ear and gave Draco a pointed look.

"What?"

"What? You are messing with my friend's feelings for the second year in a row, that is what," Lacie snapped. "I thought that you would have some semblance of decency."

"It was hardly a passionate kiss on the lips, Lace," Draco replied, the skin on the back of his neck raised a little in irritation. "She asked me a question I did not know how to answer and I panicked."

Lacie glared at him for a moment before her features softened. "Pansy will not be happy that her betrothed is so fickle."

"The Parkinsons broke off the engagement."

That had been another sore point with his father. There was an amassing mountain of problems with the Malfoy family: the sacking of Lucius Malfoy, the unsuccessful attempt to discredit Dumbledore and the separation of the Malfoy parents and children; and it had led to the political downfall of the family, and now they were in public disgrace. The once prestigious surname was now sullied and the Parkinsons would now take their chances elsewhere. They would always be the best of family friends, but did want better for their daughter. Lucius Malfoy had flown into another one of his frantic rages. Draco was to become a better candidate for a better family, a family of the _Sacred Twenty-Eight_. He would be the one to restore the Malfoy name. It all rested on Draco.

Not that Draco wanted to bear that responsibility.

Draco had never felt freer or more trapped in his life. At least in the coming year Pansy would not be simpering over him in his misery.

"Are you alright?" Lacie asked, concern clear in her expression.

"Why would I not be?" Draco asked, his eyebrows furrowing in his confusion.

"I do not know, Pansy and you have been engaged for so long, well, since we were children that it seems strange that it is all broken off," Lacie explained, looking at her hands and her blonde hair falling in front of her face. "I used to think that you would marry Pansy, and I would marry Theo and we would be a tight-knit family group and have children named after ridiculous constellations…"

"Like Andromeda?" Draco quipped with a grin, which was met by a scowl. "It seems so long ago since the four of us were so close."

Lacie chuckled quietly as she tucked her fallen hair behind her ear, "I cannot imagine the four of us picnicking in the Manor's gardens again, with Theo and you launching rocks at those poor peacocks, whilst Pansy and I compared dresses."

"Yes, it does seem as if you deplore each other now."

"I must admit, it is a relief not to imagine what it would like to be family with her. Who do you think the Parkinsons will go to next?"

"Not our problem," Draco said, "If you care so much about society affairs, I will buy you a subscription to _Witch Weekly_ as a belated birthday present."

"I would rather kiss Theo."

"Would you, after all this time? I shall inform him."

Lacie swatted at him but Draco paid her no mind. The idea of Lacie potentially kissing Theo in the proverbial tree was probably as repugnant an idea to her as it was to him. Theo was _family,_ for Merlin's sake. As much as Lacie had once fantasised that she would marry Theo, he knew that it was in the past and it was all pretend.

"It must have been hard on you, Father must have been livid."

Draco nodded and rubbed his eyes. He made a non-committal sort of noise, to indicate that their father had indeed been none-too-pleased.

"What did Hermione ask, by the way?"

"Hm?"

Draco was so tired now that his mind was starting to wane, and his eyes were growing heavy. Lacie prodded him on the arm to keep him semi-conscious.

"What did Hermione ask, the big question that made my big brother, _Draco Lucius Malfoy_ , panic?"

Draco did not appreciate Lacie's sarcasm and the usage of his full name. He yawned and stretched out before lying on his bed.

"She asked me how I saved her life."

"Did you tell her?" Lacie straightened up, and prodded him incessantly. Draco just wanted to sleep as he began to feel his eyelids drooping. He moved his leg away from Lacie. Her prodding subsided.

"Er… I panicked, so no."

"I hate keeping secrets from my best friend, why will you not tell her?"

Draco thought about it for a moment but, as his eyes grew heavier and heavier he found it harder to concentrate. He focused on the one thing that really did deter him from telling her the truth, and that kept him awake for a moment. He knew that if he told her the truth of it, she would give it back without hesitation. There was something in that that perturbed Draco that he did not quite understand. He _wanted_ her to have that mirror, whether to protect herself or to glance at her reflection, he did not care. He just wanted her to have it. He knew that it was one of the many Malfoy heirlooms that passed on through generations, but heirlooms and traditions currently meant nothing to him. He just wanted to protect her, most likely because he saw her as his sister too.

"I do not want to ruin the gift for her, if she knew it was really from me, she would give it back."

"Why do you even care?"

Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was really getting tired now.

"To be honest, I have no idea."

"Could you be warming up to Hermione? Maybe you will even marry her."

Draco reached behind him and grabbed one of the multitude of pillows that littered his bed. He threw it in Lacie's general direction, still with his eyes closed. He did not care if he hit her or not, but he hoped to convey the message.

"Have you forgotten? I am Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy family. I cannot simply marry any girl you push my way, especially a Muggleborn like Granger."

Draco did not need to look at Lacie, or be her twin to know what she was thinking. He fell back into the softness of his bed.

 _Does it even matter?_

However, he did not think long on the matter as he drifted to sleep quickly and easily.

* * *

 _A/N: I forgot to say in the last chapter, if I make any mistakes with the French, please don't eat me alive._

If you haven't yet, I suggest reading Bright Star/Bound By Garlands of Her Own before this one, this story covers third year.

 _[Extended summer with Draco, Lacie and Hermione, though? Hell to the yes.]_

If you haven't got the willpower or the time quick recap: Lacie is an OC also Draco's twin sister, named after the lizard constellation Lacerta and also named after Andromeda (ooh, what could that mean?) Hermione's best friend, Ron's sparring partner and unwilling participant in the crazy adventures of Harry J. Potter. Pretty much covers all the basics with that.

As always, happy reading.

CSxo.


	3. Do I Hold the Past?

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Three: Do I Hold the Past?**

* * *

With a hostile eye at my flushing cheek,  
With a malice that marks each word, each sign!  
O enemy sly and serpentine,  
Uncoil thee from the waking man!

Robert Browning from _Never the Time and the Place_

* * *

The next morning, Hermione found herself lazing in the sun as usual. Lacie was in a ballet lesson with her summer ballet teacher and Malfoy was swimming laps in the pool. She had half expected to see him when she breakfasted, but only saw him when she had gone out to lie in the sun with her half-finished textbook. He was jogging around the grounds as she sat down, and he didn't seem to notice her as he neared her. He did several more laps before stopping by the sun loungers. He pulled his T-shirt off and threw it on a sun lounger next to Hermione.

"Morning," he said rather gruffly before walking towards the pool. He hadn't waited for a response from her before walking to the pool and lowering himself into it. He pushed himself and started doing laps in the pool.

Hermione largely ignored Malfoy as he swam his laps, but found herself often peering at him as he did so. He swam like he played Quidditch, by gliding elegantly. Hermione had forgotten briefly that Malfoy was actually a decent Quidditch player, something she hadn't anticipated after he had essentially bought his way onto the Slytherin team. He had caught the Snitch in the match against Ravenclaw (the Ravenclaw chasers were too good for the Slytherin Keeper, though, and they ultimately lost the game), which made him almost even with Harry. _Almost_.

Malfoy stopped for a moment to even his breathing and looked across at Hermione. Hermione blushed and hid behind her book, mentally chastising herself for being caught watching Malfoy. She continued to hide behind it, even when she heard the splashes of Malfoy swimming again. She only wished that he would not comment on the fact that she had been staring at him, or even mention it to Lacie.

Soon she was too absorbed by her textbook to be distracted by Malfoy. As she learned more about number divination, she barely noticed that Lacie had arrived and the sun was at its peak. Lacie tried to converse with Hermione in vain, Hermione was barely answering as she pored over her book. As she flicked a page, the book slipped out of her fingers and into the air and out of her reach. Hermione groaned and glared at Lacie.

"Magic is forbidden outside of Hogwarts," Hermione started to lecture but Lacie had a smug expression on her face.

"But house-elf magic is not," she taunted a little, before turning to the little house-elf carrying a tray of drinks and saying, "Dans la piscine, s'il vous plait."

The house-elf clicked her fingers and the book went zooming from the air and fell into the swimming pool where it sank like a rock. Hermione hadn't even noticed that Malfoy had stopped swimming and was now stood next to his sister and slurping on his drink. His mouth was pulled into a crooked smile, and didn't question his sister. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Mature," Hermione commented as she stood up.

Lacie lifted up two of the drinks off the tray and offered one to Hermione. Hermione was suddenly too aware that Malfoy was looking at her and she was in a simple black one-piece swimming costume that probably fit her too tightly. She hadn't bought a new swimming costume for years as she wasn't much taller than she had been before she started Hogwarts, but she was developing in areas that were all-too-noticeable in the swimming costume. This was becoming painfully obvious and Hermione tried to hide it by crossing her arms. Malfoy looked away. Hermione looked past the drink that Lacie was offering and winced as she saw the book in the depths of the pool.

Hermione shoved Lacie gently, "That was a library book!"

"Relax, you know that old library hag has probably cast every kind of protection spell she has gathered over the years on it," Lacie said before holding out the extra glass in her hand, "Apple juice?"

Hermione ignored and walked past her. She walked to the deeper end of the pool, and twisted her hair into a bun as she went. She tied it up with a bobble from her wrist and tucked any loose strands behind her ears. As she neared the water's edge, she thought carefully about what she was going to do and she stood at the edge of the pool, aware that Lacie and Malfoy were watching her. Her toes curled over the edge of the pool, and she raised her arms above her head before bending down so that her upper body was parallel to the water. Hermione took a deep breath before diving as gracefully as she could into the pool.

It was a rush of water and bubbles as she glided through the water. She could barely see the book in the water, as it was a blurry mess but she had a general location. She raised her head above the water to take a breath before swimming towards the book. Once she saw it under her, she stopped for a breath again and went head first into the water as if she was doing a handstand. She grabbed the book and triumphantly swam back to the pool edge with it. Hermione rubbed her stinging eyes.

"Show off," Lacie muttered as she drank her juice through a straw.

Hermione flicked some water as her and Lacie jumped away. Hermione chuckled, "Well, in Muggle schools they teach children how to swim, it's a rather important life skill."

Malfoy snorted into his drink. Hermione raised her eyebrow at him, but knew better than to utter so much as a retort. She chose to examine the book that she had retrieved on the edge of the pool, keeping it safe. Lacie had been right, there were protection spells on the book but an ugly strike had appeared on the sheet that indicated that it had been checked out. Hermione dreaded returning it, and amidst her thoughts on what unpleasant punishment Madam Pince would have her do, there was a loud splash as something – or someone – fell into the pool. Hermione looked at the still water, and saw ripples in the water. She knew it was wasn't Lacie, as her friend was glancing at the stack of periodicals that must have just been delivered. Just as she pushed away the library book to pull herself out of the pool, she felt a hand around her ankle pulling her underwater.

Bubbles and water rushed over her as she kicked out, flailing in the water. She had lost her bearings, and what was worse had gulped a mouthful of pool water in her surprise. Her arms thrashed in desperation as she pulled herself up out of the water. Hermione gasped and spluttered and her throat burned and she grabbed onto the pool's edge. She rubbed at her stinging eyes and the world started to focus again. Malfoy was also spluttering and he ran a tentative hand through his blond hair as turned to Hermione. He was grinning at her.

Hermione had half a mind to curse him.

"Are you alright?" Lacie asked frantically, and she had moved to the pool's edge and was peering over the edge. She looked at Malfoy with a murderous expression as well before saying, "I am going to kill you."

"Were you going to spend all day lying in the sun? Where is the fun in that?" Draco said with a raised eyebrow, he glanced between Hermione and Lacie.

"Yes," Hermione said sardonically, "I forgot how much trying to end my life was fun."

"You are overreacting."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are far too tense, just lighten up, for Salazar's sake."

"I do wonder why I'm so tense, but then again, Doxy venom is causes amnesia."

"You two, just… Draco you were being childish, so just apologise and we will just forget all of this."

Malfoy's lips pressed into a hard line before he took a deep breath and apologised for dragging Hermione under the water. Hermione did not care for his sullen tone, but nevertheless, for the sake of peace she nodded in acceptance. She went to pull herself out of the pool, and Malfoy had extended an arm to his sister. Hermione sighed as she easily pulled herself out of the water. She went to grab a towel to dry herself off, when she heard a resounding splash behind her.

Hermione whipped around and watched as she saw Lacie's arms flail in the water before her head broke the surface. Hermione went to the pool's edge with her towel, and watched as Lacie exchanged some angry words with her brother. His smirk was wiped off his face within milliseconds, before she shoved him away from her, and Malfoy floated away easily like he was a flower petal. Lacie glowered at Hermione as she pulled herself out of the water, and snatched Hermione's towel out her hands. Without so much as a backwards glance at her brother, she stormed off in the direction of the house.

Malfoy pulled himself out of the water.

"You just couldn't help yourself could you?" Hermione said, as he stood up, dripping water everywhere.

"I thought…"

"No, you weren't thinking," Hermione said. "You were just trying to have _fun_."

"How was I supposed to know that it would not be funny?" Malfoy countered, his eyes flashing dangerously. "It is not as if she tells me everything."

"You're her _twin brother_ , does she really have to tell you everything? Or are you just _that_ dense?"

He glowered at her before walking away, dripping water across the garden as he went into the house. Hermione grabbed another towel and hung it around her shoulders, not that she needed to dry herself off properly in the Mediterranean heat. She grabbed her textbook, which despite its watery adventures was surprisingly dry, as well as the latest _Daily Prophet,_ before making her way back into the house.

She found Draco sitting outside of Lacie's room, clearly waiting for her to let him in. Malfoy was probably going to be there all day, soaking wet and remorseful. Hermione raised her eyebrow at him as she went to her room to drop her textbook off and she glanced at the front cover of the _Prophet._ On it, was a moving photograph of a wretched looking man, who was gnashing his decaying teeth at the photographer. Hermione dawdled as she scanned the article.

"Anything interesting?" Malfoy called out to her, Hermione turned to look at him before walking to her doorway and leaning on the frame.

"Someone's escaped from Azkaban," Hermione replied.

Lacie's door suddenly opened and Malfoy fell back. He saved himself from cracking his skull against her marble tiles by throwing his arms on the ground and propping himself up. He looked at her reproachfully.

"Lace?"

She silenced him by putting her hand in his face whilst looking at Hermione and saying, "That is impossible, Azkaban is one of the most highly guarded places in the world. You do not just _escape_ from Azkaban."

Hermione shook her paper at Lacie so that she could read the large headline. Malfoy must have spotted it as he said, "That was yesterday's headline."

"The owl takes a bit longer for foreign subscriptions," Hermione clarified.

"Well, Lace, it was cousin Sirius."

Lacie's mouth fell open and she looked down at her brother, "Really?"

Malfoy nodded, and Hermione's mouth also fell agape. "You're really related to a man who," Hermione turned her attention back to the article and quoted, " _killed thirteen people in a single blast_?"

"Most pureblood families are related, intermarrying between cousins is quite common actually," Lacie explained. "I think we are even related to Ron Weasley… something like fourth cousins, five times removed?"

"On Mother's side," Malfoy added, before shuddering, "Also, I doubt the Malfoy side of the family would actually marry first cousins together to keep the bloodline pure."

"Wasn't there a rumour in first year about fraternal pureblood twins being betrothed from birth?" Hermione asked. Lacie and Malfoy exchanged a grimace before turning back to Hermione.

"Those are reserved for the zealots, proper purists… although there are less and less purebloods around these days, few would marry brother and sister together to ensure blood purity, it does… _things_ to you. They always said that the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black was plagued by insanity, and I wonder how much of that is because of selective partnerships," Malfoy said. "Also, no offence, Lace, but as much as I want to honour the family I would never marry you."

"None taken, I would not dream of marrying you either."

"Does it even matter?" Hermione asked.

A smile played on Malfoy's lips for a moment, as if he was remembering a long-lost joke before he said, "Yes. Yes, it does."

The curtness of his response took Hermione aback for a moment. She had hoped for a moment, although it was her optimism speaking, that he was going to say that blood purity did not matter. Obviously, she was being naïve, as Malfoy was never going to go against his pureblood heritage, especially after he had bragged about it from the moment they had first met. That didn't stop something in her gut feeling slightly disappointed at his answer. It was as if, no matter how much he tried to accept her, he would never truly do so because of her heritage. _Well, that's just stupid._

Instead of responding, Hermione folded the paper back up, and pulled her hair free and shook it out. Lacie squirmed backwards back into her room, and Hermione giggled as she realised that she was accidentally spraying Lacie and Malfoy with water droplets.

"What are you, some filthy mutt now?" Lacie asked with a upturned lip.

"Fitting," Hermione said as she smiled at her friend, before she turned to Malfoy who had pulled himself up, and was now standing up, "Don't get any ideas."

"Would not dream of it," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes as he walked down the corridor towards his own room.

x-x-x-x-x

As the days wore on, even Draco began to notice that his mother was absent from activities during most of the day. Whenever Draco asked his sister, she would open a bleary eye as she lay in the sun and told him that it was normal behaviour, and their mother only left her room on the rare occasion. She was most likely crumbling apart in her room. Lacie and Granger had learned to leave the woman be, but Draco knew his mother better and could not leave it be.

Narcissa Malfoy was a woman that struck fear in the heart of most witches and some wizards in England. She would walk into a room, and knew how to draw attention to herself, and she was _the_ social butterfly of the higher echelons. She was not a woman to be crossed or denied, and so to fall apart… that was wholly uncharacteristic of his mother.

So, why was she not burning her husband's most prized possessions and hosting extravagant parties, but instead spending all of her hours asleep with her curtains closed?

Draco tried knocking for his mother, only to be stopped by the pesky Sandrine and the elf told her that his mother was sleeping.

"Sleeping?" Draco had asked in French, and the elf had nodded with urgency in response. Draco had raised an eyebrow before checking a clock, "But it is three in the afternoon."

"Madame Malfoy likes to take a nap during the day," Sandrine whispered back, and Draco's eyebrows knitted together. Whilst his mother appreciated customs in general, he was not aware that she like to take a siesta, or that she needed to. He returned to the garden where Granger was fussing over an owl, which he recognised as Potter's owl, and as he sneered at the animal, his worries about his mother soon dissipated.

"Do you want to send Harry anything for his birthday?" Lacie asked as they finished tying up several packages to the owl's leg.

"I have only eternal adoration for the Wonder-Twit-Who-Lived-Again, but I do not think that his owl can carry that," Draco said, sarcasm dripping from every word. The owl squawked at him threateningly, before taking flight. Lacie scoffed, and asked him if he had to be so rude. Granger merely ignored him, preferring to stare at the trees in the distance than at him. Draco snapped back, wondering what Lacie really wanted from him. He could play nice with Granger, but would rather lick Uncle Sev's dungeons clean than kowtow to Potter. Lacie only scoffed again and stretched out in her sun lounger.

"You are just like mother, except she does not laze in the sun every day," Draco commented as he walked to the pool. Ever since he had seen Granger dive so… gracefully in the pool, he had been determined to try it himself. So far, every time he fell into the pool like wriggling fish, and was not happy with his progress.

"I exhaust myself every morning and relax in the afternoon, mother only laments in her room, there is _quite_ the difference," Lacie retorted. "I do not see why you do not pick on Hermione; all she does is read."

"I'm exercising my brain," Granger muttered, as her fingers ghosted a new textbook, this one was a beginner's guide to Ancient Runes. Draco wondered how many textbooks Granger had borrowed from the library before she had left Hogwarts.

"Does it not bother you though, how despondent our mother is?" Draco inquired, and Lacie raised a thin eyebrow at him.

"No, she is better off without father and she will soon see it," Lacie said curtly. She closed her eyes and turned away from Draco, indicating that the conversation was over. He stomped all the way to the other side of the pool and mentally visualised what Granger had done.

He fell into the pool with a splat, and it hurt every part of his torso. He had to concede, he could not learn this trick on his own and at some point he would have to consult Granger, who was looking at him with a small smirk. He furiously swam laps until his body tired, which was long after Granger and his sister had left to eat dinner. Draco stormed past the dinner table, and into his room to shower and merely lie on his bed, the exertion of his muscles was too much. He would dine later.

Later that night, he woke with a start. His stomach grumbled, and in the darkness he realised that it was well past midnight. He had fallen asleep in his shirt and trousers, intending to only let his body rest for a few moments before joining Lacie and Granger at the dinner table. He yawned as he rubbed his blurry eyes and sat up, his stomach aching from both swimming and being hungry. He was sure that Sandrine could whip him up something, or he could look in the Muggle cooling appliance for leftovers. He padded over to his door, and when he opened it and stepped out, he could only hear the most bloodcurdling scream. He fell back into his room, where there was blissful silence and held his ears. He ran to his bedside table and snatched up his wand and ran into the corridor.

The screaming was from Lacie's room.

Draco sprinted towards the room, with his hand gripped tightly on his wand. He knew he was not allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts, but for his sister he would risk it. Draco burst into the room and raised his wand, before glancing around the room. He found his mother cradling and rocking his sister as she mumbled something rhythmic under her breath. The screaming soon subsided, and their mother lay her on the bed, where Lacie was muttering something, a thin sheen of sweat slicked all over her body. Their mother looked up at Draco with a sad expression on her face.

"What is wrong with her?" Draco asked when he found his voice.

"Your sister did a heroic but reckless thing when she went down to the Chamber of Secrets a few months ago," his mother said quietly, as she walked over to an armchair. She invited Draco to come into the room, and he did so, closing the door behind him. He knelt beside her. "She was tortured and nearly killed, and surprisingly, it was not because of her friendship with Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, it was because of her name."

"Why?"

"Your father made a lot of mistakes in his past," was all his mother said, as if it explained everything. When Draco pressed for a better explanation, she simply traced his face with her index finger and pinched the bottom of his chin with it and her thumb. She smiled weakly at him.

"I do not wish for both of my children to have nightmares tonight," she whispered. She looked sadly over at his sister, who was breathing heavily in her sleep and turning in her sleep.

"Is this why you spend all of your time in your room?" Draco asked quietly, "You sleep during the day because you are here all night?"

"Yes," his mother replied, not removing her gaze from his sister.

"Does she know?"

His mother shook her head.

"You should tell her, she thinks that you spend your days sobbing into a pillow over father," Draco said, and his mother shook her head. "Why, Mother? She regards you with such disdain that - …"

"Because I made her like this," his mother cut in softly. "Did you think that all I did was teach her needlework and tea ceremonies, whilst you played in the gardens? I taught her to be brave, and to never let anything break her. If I had not interfered with her training, and only did what I was supposed to do, she probably would have never gone into the Chamber, and would not be having these nightmares. She might even be a Slytherin."

"So, you are punishing yourself?" Draco asked. His mother did not answer, but she did not have to. Draco knew the answer, and it almost tore his chest in two. He was ashamed at himself for listening to his sister's criticisms of their mother, even for a moment, because she was a far stronger woman than they both knew. As Draco watched his mother watch over his sister, he only wondered if Lacie knew how self-sacrificing their mother was. It also explained far more about Lacie's behaviour, how reticent she was about their father and her reluctance to do anything besides lie in a sun lounger all day.

"I can help too, I can stay in here all night too," Draco said, and his mother froze for a moment before turning to look at him. She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.

"No, that will not be necessary -…"

"But -…"

"No buts," his mother said firmly. She leant towards him and pressed her lips to his forehead, "Good night, my dear."

It was clear to him that he was being dismissed. Draco stood up, and cast a look at his writhing sister who was still muttering in her sleep. He went to the door and opened it, before hurrying to the kitchen to grab a snack and ate it quickly before returning to his own bed.

That night, he did not sleep a single wink, haunted by his sister's screaming.

 _What had happened to her?_

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione stared out the window as she ate her breakfast, and watched as the rain battered the open parasols and marble tiles outside. She sighed as she retreated back to her room to change into some clothes, and wondered how she would spend the day before Lacie had finished with her lesson. Aside from the bedrooms and the grounds outside, Hermione hadn't really explored the villa. She knew to stay away from Narcissa's quarters, and even then, her elf would only lead her away from that wing but there were several rooms that Hermione hadn't looked at yet, despite having stayed there for over a month now. As she neared a part of the villa she had never explored before, she could hear voices and she tentatively opened the door.

"Morning," a voice said beside a large desk, Hermione looked up and saw Malfoy standing next to Sandrine, who was holding a long piece of parchment and a quill.

"Morning," Hermione replied, as she looked around the room. It was clearly a study, but there were no personal items in there aside from a desk and several chairs. There were a few books on the opulent bookshelves and comfortable looking reading chairs, but there was nothing to marvel at in the room.

"I see the rain ruined your plans too," Malfoy smiled, before whispering what seemed to be more instructions for the elf and she nodded and scribbled down everything he said.

"Yes… well, I thought I would take a look around the house, seeing as I haven't seen everything yet. What are you going to do?" Hermione asked, awkwardly trying to make conversation.

"My summer homework, I am asking Sandrine to go back to the Manor and collect some books for me, is there anything I can get for you?"

Hermione stepped forward and looked at the list that Sandrine was holding, and her eyes widened at the scrawled French on the parchment. She knew that Malfoy could speak French quite well, she didn't know that he was _that_ good. He seemed to read her thoughts as he laughed.

"No, I am not that good at French. Sandrine has put a translation spell in the room so everything spoken in English gets translated into French for her, and everything spoken in French gets translated back into English for me," Malfoy said. "It makes life easier for the both of us."

"So, Sandrine can understand everything I'm saying?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, Miss Hermione," the elf answered before turning to Malfoy, "Is that everything?"

Malfoy nodded before thanking her, and the elf disappeared with a crack. Malfoy returned to the desk, where there were scattered pieces of parchment lying everywhere. He sat down and appraised one of them before frowning at it. Hermione watched as he placed it back on the desk with a huff and began scribbling on a fresh piece of parchment.

She didn't know what to say, or what even to do. Normally she would just linger in the sun and wait for Lacie, but the rain had seen to that idea. She could read in the drawing room, but there was something oddly comforting about the eerily empty study, as if she was in the Hogwarts library again. She couldn't sit in the room and ignore Malfoy though, as much as she disliked him. The way that he spoke to his elf perturbed her. She had never seen him act so kindly or carefree before, as if there was some weight off his shoulders all of a sudden.

"You're nice to Sandrine," Hermione said, after a moment.

Malfoy looked up at her, with his quill raised in the air. "So?"

"And to Anaïs," Hermione said, "But you're not nice to me unless you're told to be. Why is that?"

"Have I done something?"

"Why do you hate me?"

Malfoy placed his quill in a quill-holder, before crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "I think it is absurd to think that I hate you."

"And I think it's absurd that you hate me because of something I can't control. Somehow I was born into a Muggle family and had magical powers, it doesn't make me more repugnant than you," Hermione said walking up to the desk.

Malfoy stood up, his grey eyes seemed to be boring into her as he uncrossed his arms to place them on the desk, mimicking his mother during that first dinner, "I think this is becoming quite the circular argument."

"No, I want to know why you have hated…" Hermione paused at the indignant look that Malfoy was giving her, "Fine, _disliked_ me from the moment that you met me. You didn't know who I was and you disliked me."

"Do you really have to know everything?"

"Yes, I am an insufferable know-it-all, after all. Stop answering my questions with questions."

"Fine, I admit that I disliked you because of your background," Malfoy acquiesced, falling limply in his chair. He offered the chair in front of the desk to Hermione, as if they were sitting in a business meeting and drawing up their respective arguments. Hermione glowered at him and continued to stand. When it was clear that she was not going to sit, Malfoy cleared his throat as he thought about his next words.

"As a child, I did not mingle with anyone who was not like me, and most of my friends, you must have noticed are quite privileged and are purebloods," Malfoy started. "We were spoiled, and raised to believe a certain way. You know my family motto and you have met my father, I am the heir to the Malfoy family and I honestly thought it was the right way to think and conduct myself."

"Then explain Lacie," Hermione said. "Explain why she is so different to you? Why did she run after me when you first called me a Mudblood?"

"She has always been a better person than I am," Malfoy said with a smile as he looked down at the desk.

"Insulting yourself is not explaining yourself," Hermione stated.

Draco looked at her, meeting her gaze with an irritated cockiness. "Lacie was never treated the same that I was, she threw herself into her training and my father was always, _always_ harder on her than he ever was on me."

"So you're a bigot because you're _spoiled_?"

"I suppose so," Malfoy sighed.

Hermione was surprised at his honesty, even though it wasn't a satisfactory answer for her. Even she knew though that it was the best answer that he could actually give, though and she appreciated at how frank he had been. She had never seen this side of him before. Hermione knew that Malfoy like to laud his knowledge over her, and made her feel insignificant because he had grown up with magic around him. He had done that during the summer when he explained pureblood families, but she was seeing sides of him that he probably never even showed his friends. He was having fun, and he was laying all his cards on the table in front of her.

 _I think he is taking his mother's words seriously._

"You said that you thought it was the right way to conduct yourself, what's changed?"

Malfoy blinked at her for a moment before cocking his head, "Pardon?"

Hermione snickered. Malfoy was more like Harry than the pair could care to think. She composed herself before repeating herself, "You said before, that being the heir to the Malfoy family, you thought it acting a certain way _was_ the right way to conduct yourself. What's changed?"

Malfoy blinked repeatedly at her again, and opened his mouth before closing it with a frown. He pursed his lips and then said, "I suppose spending some independent time with my father has changed my perspective a little."

"Daddy dearest isn't so dear after all?"

"Watch your tone," Malfoy warned in a low voice, before continuing. "The Malfoy name has taken quite the hit recently, and my father does not take failure well."

"Maybe he should have thought of that before purging Hogwarts of Muggle-borns," Hermione retorted. "And trying to discredit Professor Dumbledore."

"Like I said, he does not take failure well, and I do not think that he anticipated my mother leaving him on top of it all."

"What does that mean for you?" Hermione asked, finally taking the seat in front of Malfoy, and Hermione felt his eyes follow her as she did so. Hermione looked up and met his eyes, again.

"It means…" he said trailing off and staring in the distance. He squinted slightly as he focused his gaze somewhere else. "I suppose it means that I can act without having to first consider how it would sully my family name."

Hermione turned around to look at what Draco was looking at. Whilst she didn't understand Wizarding politics, and she knew it was a conversation for a later date, as she was intrigued by it all, she realised that something had changed in that room. They sat in silence, contemplating everything that had been said, and after a long time Draco picked up his quill and started scratching away at his parchment again. Hermione kept staring away from him, and had focused her attention on the window where the rain was dribbling down the glass outside. No one said anything, until Lacie burst in looking quite flustered.

"Of course you are in the library," Lacie huffed and she quirked an eyebrow as she peered behind Hermione and at Draco. "Why are you in here?"

"I was here first," Draco muttered as he continued writing. He did not look up from his work to greet his sister. "But your friend gave me some interesting facts about witch-hunts from a Muggle perspective for my History of Magic homework."

"Oh," Lacie said. Hermione turned to look at Draco, wondering why he was lying about what they had been talking about. She also wondered why Lacie seemed to accept his lie so easily, Lacie seemed to always see through Hermione's lies. "Glad to see that you are making friends with each other."

"Draco and I aren't -…" Hermione started, and realised something.

It was the first time that she had called Malfoy by his given name, or even thought about him with his given name. Draco looked at her with that expressionless mask before saying with annoyed voice, "As much as I would like to sit in a circle and make friendship bracelets with you both, I do have homework to complete. Unfortunately for you two, I actually care about my studies."

Lacie rolled her eyes at her brother more linking arms with Hermione. Hermione merely narrowed her eyes at him

 _Well, really! And to think I was getting somewhere with him!_

* * *

 _A/N: Apologies if the French is off, according to one of my apps I am only 20-something percent fluent in French.  
_

 _Also, I love writing Dramione fluff/moments in general._

 _Remember to give Bright Star/Bound by a read if you haven't already._

 _Happy reading, CSxo_


	4. Here's the Puzzle

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Here's the Puzzle**

* * *

All my days, I'll go the softlier, sadlier,  
For that dream's sake! How forget the thrill  
Thro' and thro' me as I thought, 'The gladlier  
Lives my friend because I love him still!'

Robert Browning from _Fears and Scruples_

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy had had enough of her children and guest lounging all day by the pool, and forced an outing on the first occasion that all four of them were at breakfast. Lacie normally woke up first to go to her ballet lesson, and Hermione normally had a lie in and did not rise before ten in the morning. Their mother was nearly always in bed by the time Draco woke up, and this was always sometime in between Lacie and Hermione waking up. It made for an interesting dynamic and it frustrated Sandrine to no end, who had to make sure the breakfast she made lasted through the four different breakfast times. The house-elf seemed more excited than anyone else that all four residents were eating breakfast together at the same time for the first time, in mid-August.

Lacie, being Lacie, had protested to the outing. Hermione, being the insufferable bookworm that she was, suggested that they should go to museums and learn things about the region in France where they were staying. Draco had merely rolled his eyes at his exasperated mother.

"Where even in France are we?" he had asked her. Draco had had such a relaxing day the day before, that he was reluctant to change his routine. He had still yet to exercise this morning, and as Flint was becoming a harder Captain to please, Draco had to be at his best to win his spot on the team again. There was no buying his way in this year, Hermione's words the previous year still stung. He would get on the team based on his own skills, and the less he relied on his father's stature the coming year, the better.

"Draguignan," Lacie supplied as she stole the freshly buttered toast out of Draco's hand before he had even had a chance to bite into it. The habit of hers was infuriating and Draco wondered aloud at what age she would stop. Never, she threatened with an evil-looking smile. Their mother called them to order, and buttered a piece of toast for Draco to placate him.

"Like, dragon?" Draco asked as he took a defiant bite, his eyebrow arching slightly, "You bought a villa in a village named after dragons?"

"Before you get on your high horse, _Draco_ ," Lacie interrupted before their mother could answer, "This town was named after a dragon that was slayed by Saint Hermentaire, and not you."

Draco turned to Hermione who was cutting delicately into her fried egg and said, "Do not get any ideas."

She looked up at him, snickered to herself before muttering, "Wouldn't dream of it."

Draco did not know what it was, but something had changed between them. They were being civil, that was a given, but after the blazing conversation where the girl had demanded to know where his supposed hatred of her had sprung from, something had changed. He had expected her to remain hostile and unresponsive, as most people would have been after a conversation like that. Instead, she surprised him by chatting and joking with him. She had even promised to show him how to dive by the end of the holidays, not before making a backhanded comment about how he had never been taught.

"I suppose the pureblood curriculum doesn't have space for learning how to dive in between ridiculing Muggleborns and looking snooty," she had said, before returning to a book about Divination. He had laughed in response.

Hermione had also shared her observation that his attempts so far looked like a caught eel being thrown back into the water.

 _Whatever that had meant._

He watched as she turned her attention towards her breakfast again before finishing the slice of toast his mother had prepared. Draco could not forget Hermione's parting words the month before.

" _When we go back to Hogwarts, we will be Granger and Malfoy again, won't we?"_

Draco was annoyed with himself for not setting her straight after she had posed the question. If he had been trained as strict as his sister had, he would have learnt to compose himself in difficult situations. Instead he had panicked, embraced her and ran away without properly telling Hermione that yes, once they were back at Hogwarts, they would no longer be in the limbo of being friends or rivals. He would only ever see her as Granger, and if she had any sense, he would always be Malfoy to her.

 _Does it even matter?_

Lacie and Hermione's voices merged in his mind to ask the question. Yes, it mattered. Yet, the Malfoy name was already in disgrace, and there was already irreparable damage done, as he explained to Hermione a few days prior. The engagement between Pansy and he had been dissolved and he was free to do as he wished. He had no real burden or obligation at the moment to restore his family name. For the time being, he could do as he wished – he still hated those arrogant braver than brave Gryffindors, that was for certain and as a Slytherin, the house rivalry would never cease – and no one could say a word otherwise. The days he had spent in France was testament to that, and he dreaded returning to England and to Hogwarts.

Draco smirked as Lacie tried to grab a second piece of toast from his hand but his reflexes were quicker now and he moved his hand out of her reach. She glowered at him before settling for some orange juice.

They did not end up going to a museum or shopping – Lacie's second idea after stamping her feet to try and get her own way – and instead they went to a sad looking set of rocks in the middle of Draguignan, as had been recommended by Mother. However, the woman who suggested that they all leave the villa, had remained at the villa and loudly announced her intentions to redecorate and keep up her correspondence. Draco knew that she was most likely going to spend the time they were out of the house catching up on her sleep, from the restless night before and did not complain. Draco knew why she had forced them out of the house, she probably did not want the three to waste the summer lazing in the sun, and wanted them to at least experience something whilst they were in France. Lacie glowered at her mother, before preparing herself for her ballet lesson.

The three had walked into town after Lacie's lesson and made their way to the faery's stone which was a local attraction that seemed to attract a lot of people for what it was.

Hermione had picked up a free leaflet about it and was avidly reading off it next to him, "This dolmen dates back to the Neolithic era, and according to old legends, it was built by a faery who lives under it."

Draco was thinking about Quidditch plays and how he would outfly Potter to care much about the rock that his mother indirectly had dragged him to, as well as his conclusion on the Shrinking Solution essay that Uncle Sev had set them for the holidays. That seemed more infinitely more interesting than what Hermione had to say about the rock. Lacie was peering at the them, and when she thought that no one was looking, pressed her ears against the rock. Draco did not know if there was too much Black blood in her, but she was starting to worry him as if she would turn mad like most in his Mother's family did.

"…And according to local legend, the dolmen was formed when a faery disguised as a shepherdess…"

It was a stifling hot day, and Draco could not wait until this little adventure was over so that he could throw himself in the cooling pool and swim several laps. Draco huffed. He only hoped that Sandrine had more of her homemade lemonade, the walk and the heat had made him very thirsty. He barely even listened to Hermione as she spoke. He fanned himself to no avail, he was only spreading hot air all over his face.

"…Oh, but he died because he discovered he was only a modest genius in comparison to the faery."

"How sad," Draco commented, only hearing the end of the story. He did not care for the middle. Hermione looked at him curiously as she lowered the leaflet she had been reciting from.

"You don't mean that."

"Of course I do not, we have done our bit of sightseeing, can we go back now?"

"But aren't you even interested in the slightest about the history of -…"

"No," Draco cut across her, "I do not see what educational value that looking at this rock will have."

"Well, _I'm_ doing the Study of Ancient Runes this year and this _rock_ , as you have put it, may be beneficial for Lacie and me."

Draco did not want to burst her bubble by mentioning that he was also studying Ancient Runes, nor did he want to incur the know-it-all side of her where she would bombard him with facts about the rock or recite that story again. He was not studying the subject because he wanted to spend times with rocks – or _dolmen_ , as Hermione had so unhelpfully corrected him – but because he had no idea what he wanted to do in third year and he just picked whatever took his fancy. It was also mostly because his father had suggested it. Of course, his mother had written to Hogwarts to add Muggle Studies to his timetable because ' _maybe a better understanding of Muggles may do your compassion some good_ '. Draco rolled his eyes.

Hermione walked towards his sister and they were both inspecting the dolmen and were nodding appreciatively at whatever they saw. Draco stood stubbornly away from it with his arms crossed. After what seemed like forever, and after a multitude of odd looks from passers-by, the girls stepped away from the structure and chattered about rune that they may or may not have seen.

"That was an interesting excursion," Lacie said and Hermione made sure to give Draco a pointed look. Lacie fanned herself with a pale hand, "It is ever so hot though."

"Shall we get back then?" Draco prompted, turning the way they had come.

"Yes, I hope Sandrine has made some more lemonade."

Draco found himself hoping that same thing for a second time.

The three teenagers did not anticipate how hot the day had become and how thirsty they would be on the journey back to the villa and before long, Draco found himself salivating as the sight of the multi-coloured shops that offered cold drinks. It was impossibly warm, and walking in the heat was doing nothing to help that. He could not wait to throw himself into the swimming pool, that was if he did not burn to death first.

His skin was so red, that he was sure to be picked up by a jeweller and made into a ruby necklace, and the nape of his neck seemed to be burning. His sister was equally as red, and she looked quite irritated. She was also looking longingly every-so-often into the shops. Hermione on the other hand, looked completely at ease. Her skin only looked tanner than usual, and she knew well enough to tie her hair up. Soft curls had fallen out of her bun, and did not seem slicked with sweat and stuck to her face.

 _Why am I even_ looking _at her?_

 _The heat must be getting to me._

"I think I need some water," Draco said, stopping his sister and Hermione. Hermione looked at him with the slightest expression of concern and touched his arm.

"Are you alright?"

"I just need a drink of water," Draco replied, moving his arm out of her grasp. Her hand fell to her side. Lacie did not need telling twice, and walked to the nearest shop and before speaking in rapid French. When Draco and Hermione arrived next to her, she was offering a few silver Sickles in her hand and the shopkeeper was shaking his head at her. She looked at him with confusion before turning to Draco.

"What is a Franc?" Lacie asked, unable to understand the vendor. The man watched them oddly, his hand resting protectively over the bottles of water.

"It's French Muggle money, I think I have some," Hermione explained, before fumbling in her pockets and withdrawing a small cloth purse. "Mum and Dad gave me a bit of holiday money."

Hermione passed over some odd coins to the man. The vendor nodded and smiled, handed over the bottles and some more odd coins. Granger passed the water over to Draco as she pocketed her purse.

"Merci," Hermione replied in French so Anglicised that Draco resisted the urge to shudder. At least she was trying, he supposed, and he ought to be slightly grateful as she had been the only one to carry Muggle money to be able to pay for their drinks.

"Impressive," Draco said as they walked off with their bottled drinks. Lacie had grabbed one as soon as Hermione had handed over the Muggle money. She had stalked quickly off in the direction of the villa, leaving Draco and Hermione trailing in her wake.

"For a Muggleborn?" Hermione asked inquisitively, taking one of the bottles from Draco and cracking it open and watching him for a response and she gulped from it.

"You said it not me," Draco replied, before opening his bottle. Hermione snickered next to him.

 _Maybe she is not so bad, after all._

x-x-x-x-x

The next two weeks of the summer holiday passed in almost no time at all, despite Hermione's earlier hesitancy to stay in France after Draco's arrival. It seemed odd to her, that she was dreading slowly packing all of her things, when only a month or so before, she was keen to pack everything and go home. She was having fun, a concept that seemed so odd and alien, especially as she spent most of the time having fun with Draco Malfoy. There was definitely something different about the way that they spoke to each other, something that Lacie had picked up on, often exchanging a secret smile with their mother whenever Hermione teased Draco at breakfast.

Narcissa seemed to join them at breakfast every morning, and Lacie attended her ballet lesson an hour later than usual. Hermione found herself waking earlier than normal, so that all four of them would make it a habit to eat together before going to do their respective tasks. Narcissa spent her day in her room as usual, and whilst Lacie was in her ballet lesson, Hermione spent her time in the study reading over some of the books that Draco had Sandrine fetch from Malfoy Manor. When she found something interesting she would add it in her homework, find herself several inches over the length limit her professors had instructed.

"Uncle Sev hates long essays," Draco had commented as he looked at the length of Hermione's Potions essay one morning. "He prefers them to be concise and to the point, his mood deteriorates quicker with longer essays leading to harsher marking."

"How do you know that? I seem to do just fine with my essays," Hermione retorted.

"Yes, and I have seen your marks, but sometimes mine are better."

Hermione had narrowed her eyes at him, before hissing, "Favouritism."

"Fine, how about I copy your homework, and you copy mine and we will see who scores higher?" Draco had challenged, "If I score higher or equal to you, I will call Uncle Sev out on his favouritism in Potions, but if I am correct about my godfather's marking habits – which I most certainly am – you have to call me Lord Malfoy every time you see me, for a week."

"Really, Draco? A bet?"

"Yes, a bet. You think that Uncle Sev will appreciate your three rolls of parchment, and I have only written a single roll but I _will_ do better than you."

"You're just trying to get my homework because it's better than yours."

Draco pushed over his Potions essay and had gestured Hermione to read it, and Hermione loathed to admit that it was quite good. Hers was better, but it seemed like an interesting compromise. She was determined to prove Draco wrong, too, all the Gryffindors knew that Professor Snape was quick to compliment his own House, and denigrate the lions.

"Fine, but make the Lord Malfoy thing three days, a week is far too excessive."

"I will be having the smartest witch in the year calling me a Lord, even for a day I would be smug," Draco said with a grin as he prepared fresh parchment. He regarded Hermione's raised eyebrow before adding quickly, "You said three days, though."

"That's if you win, Malfoy," Hermione said as she picked up her quill with a small smile. She had not missed the compliment about her, "Personally, I can't wait to see Professor Snape's face when you challenge him."

Draco clearly loved the idea of a bet between them, until he realised that Hermione's handwriting was not only very neat, but was also very small. After he had copied out a single roll of Hermione's homework, it equated to a roll and a half in his own script, and he had two more rolls of Hermione's to go. Hermione, however, had finished copying out Draco's work, and felt uncomfortable handing so little work in as it only reached three-quarters of a roll.

Lacie had joined them before Draco had finished, and seemed captivated by the bet, whilst snickering at the terms. She, however, sided with Draco and remarked how Hermione was going to live down calling Draco a Lord for three days.

"But you know that Professor Snape is going to criticise how little I've written," Hermione said, waving the parchment at Lacie.

"Your writing is so tiny that Uncle Sev would be grateful that he has so little to read," Lacie replied. When Draco had finally completed – he had to take several breaks to wait for his ink to dry as a quill and ink was a fine thing unless you were left-handed – the three traipsed to the back garden where Lacie watched Hermione teach Draco how to dive.

At first, Lacie had howled with laughter as Draco continued to hit the water with a painful slap and when Narcissa heard of what Draco was trying to do, she also watched on with delight beside her daughter. Sometimes he would manage it, but when he didn't do it perfectly, he would pull himself out and try again. Hermione found herself towards the end of the holidays, admiring his determination. Soon, he was interrupting his laps to climb out of the pool to dive into it. Hermione couldn't deny that Draco was a quick study, as it hadn't taken him long to manage it. He was even able to dive with better finesse than Hermione could ever hope for.

 _Elegance must be a Malfoy family trait_ , Hermione thought bitterly.

* * *

 _A/N: I know it's a day late. I originally planned to write an Interlude to break up the chapters, as I normally do_ but: _(1)_ _I had to write it from scratch, and I had no time; (2) It probably would have added zero story value; (3) I had no time to do so. Another reason why I'm updating a day late is that I've been busy this entire week and although I have written about eleven or so chapters of this story already, I had to proof-read - get the chapter heading (sifting through 100+ of Browning's poems is fun but no joke, you guys). It's mental, but I love it. I think I may add the Interlude-that-would-have-been at the end of the story, just because I am a ways-way through it and I was enjoying writing it but yeah, send me a time machine man._

 _And so, the Granger-Malfoy summer came to an end._

 _If you haven't already give Bright Star/Bound By a little read, if, unlike me, you have time to do it then please do. If you can't be bothered to do all that reading, it's okay but you may not "get" some of the content of the next chapter because (especially the last few chapters of Bound By) link in with Chapter 3 of this story and the next chapter, which will be uploaded Thursday._

 _Happy reading!_

 _CSxo._


	5. Deep in the Dust and Dark

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Deep in the Dust and Dark**

* * *

Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed.  
But what if I fail of my purpose here?  
It is but to keep the nerves at strain,  
To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall,  
And, baffled, get up and begin again.

Robert Browning from _Life in a Bottle_

* * *

"You got a cat."

The four words seemed to tumble out of Lacie's mouth and no sooner had she said them and seen Hermione's crestfallen face, she wanted to cram them back into her mouth. She had not meant to sound so blunt, or so matter of fact and she certainly had not meant to hurt Hermione's feelings. Lacie elbowed her sniggering brother and shot a dark look towards Ron and Harry, who were watching with slight bemusement. All notions that the cat had been trying to consume Ron's rat had gone.

"What's wrong with a cat?"

Lacie winced internally, trying to think of a nice way to put how she felt. She looked at her brother, who sensed her discomfort and gave her a knowing smile.

"Lacie hates animals," Draco supplied and Lacie winced even further. _He did not have to phrase it quite like that_.

Hermione cocked her head, "No she doesn't."

"Didn't you notice she's the only one out of us who isn't taking Care of Magical Creatures?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes at Hermione whilst trying too hard not to smile.

"That's because she doesn't want to take the subject… she had an owl, for Merlin's sake."

Lacie looked to Draco for help again but he only looked at her and shrugged, unable to counter Hermione's reasoning. Even he did not understand her aversion to animals.

"Draco is exaggerating, to say I hate animals is…"

"An exaggeration?" Ron interrupted with a hint of glee, probably because Lacie was getting tongue-tied and was completely frazzled at the thought that she had to tell her best friend that she detested the _thing_ she was clutching like a baby in her arms.

"I like… owls," Lacie said rather pathetically. "But, owls are practical pet to have! They live in an Owlery, they hunt for themselves and they also deliver your post. What are you supposed to do with a cat?"

Hermione frowned at her before stroking the animal, "You are supposed to love him and look after him, come on Lacie, was there nothing in your life you absolutely adored unconditionally?"

Lacie thought about it for a moment and blushed before saying, "Draco, I suppose… and ballet shoes… but they have some sort of _purpose_ … and, well, cats…"

Hermione looked sadly at her friend but still held the cat tightly in her arms. It was truly an ugly creature, but its squashed in face seemed to be enjoying being in Hermione's arms as it purred. Lacie resisted a shudder.

"Oh, did Hermione mention it is living in your dormitory with you?" Ron asked Lacie.

 _Was the boy not complaining only minutes before that the animal was living in the same space as his beloved rat?_

She did not want to upset Hermione. Although they had spent most of the summer together, they had been separated for a week when Hermione's parents had flown over to France to pick her up before the end of the holidays. Lacie had irrationally missed her terribly in that time. They had met up today, and had had such a great time away from her mother and Draco. Lacie had whimpered and laughed as the shopkeeper at Flourish and Blotts retrieved and tied up an aggressive book for Hermione's Care of Magical Creatures class, along with the many others for all the subjects she was taking. When they had dropped off the stacks of school supplies in their room in the Leaky Cauldron, they had wandered out in the bustling street. They ignored the large wanted posters for Sirius Black that seemed to be plastered to every pillar, and had found Harry and Ron eating their way through two huge sundaes.

That was when Hermione had had the marvellous plan to visit the menagerie and get herself a pet for her birthday, although at the time, she had wanted an owl. Hermione had left with Ron, as his rat was significantly less chubby than it had been the previous year and he wondered if there was a cure for it. Lacie had always hated the thing, but even she felt a bit sorry for Ron. He loved that animal, and it was clear that it was on its last legs and he was determined to find a magical cure to delay the inevitable. Not wanting to visit the menagerie, Lacie let Harry drag her to the _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ to stare at something in the window. In the crowd around the shop, Draco had appeared and exchanged a quick greeting with Lacie, whilst ignoring Harry and she was surprised to see her brother carrying almost as many books as Hermione had been. Before she could ask him how many subjects he was taking though, Hermione had appeared with the _thing_ in her arms and was bickering with Ron, which is where they were now.

"…Fantastic," was Lacie's only reply. She only hoped that it would not shred anything of hers to pieces.

"Hello, _friends_ ," a cheery voice said behind Lacie, and she turned to find Theodore Nott and almost jumped into his arms to veer the conversation away from the cat. Theo smirked at the cat in Hermione's arms but did not say anything.

"How was your summer, Lace?" he asked.

"Incredible," Lacie replied with a grin as she remembered her lazy days under the Mediterranean sun, and she only hoped that every holiday would be like the last. "Yours?"

"Well, it remarkably improved after Draco stopped visiting," Theo said with a grin before slapping a glowering Draco on the back, almost knocking the books out of his grasp. Theo turned his attention to his friend.

"Some of us are having some tea, if you wanted to join," he said before turning to the rest of the group with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "It is Slytherins only, although Lace, you will always be an honorary Slytherin to me if you wanted to join us."

"No, thank you," Lacie said, as the rest of her friends suddenly found the ground an interesting place to stare at.

"We should go, before Vince or Greg orders for us and we end up with tea and cakes that do not compliment each other," Draco said shortly, "I will meet up with you and Mother later, Lacie."

Lacie nodded.

"Nice cat, by the way," Theo said to Hermione, before pointedly looking at Lacie. Draco snickered under his breath before they disappeared amongst the throng of last-minute shoppers.

"Prick," Ron muttered, it seemed that his language was as colourful as it had been when Lacie had last saw him, and mimicked Draco's words about tea and cake. She ignored him and asked her friends if they had anything else to purchase, and when everyone admitted that they were done for the day, they returned to the Leaky Cauldron.

Whilst Hermione struggled to get her cat in a cat carrier and take it to the room that she and Lacie were staying in, Ron and Harry walked over to the bar where Mrs Weasley was stood. Lacie stood awkwardly away from everyone else, as she was not familiar with Ron's family members at all and she cast a smile at Ginny Weasley. The redhead blushed and hid behind a Quidditch catalogue. Lacie's eyes wandered across the Leaky Cauldron and could see Percy Weasley and a man that Lacie assumed was their father. It was hard to ignore the shiny new badge that pinned onto Percy's robes. He noticed her and offered a curt nod.

"I guess all that hard work watching me over the past two years paid off," Lacie said, as she reached Weasley and flicked his badge. He glowered at her and puffed his chest out fractionally.

"Yes, well, fortunately this year I have more important tasks to conduct than to chase you around the castle," he replied dryly and then deflated slightly as he caught sight of his father, "Although, I am wholly grateful that you slipped past me though to get to the Chamber of Secrets to - …"

Lacie held her hand up to stop him from speaking, as she did not want to talk about it. She knew that he wanted to thank her for her involvement in saving his sister, but she was fine without the sentiment.

She had gone the entire holiday without talking about what had exactly happened in the Chamber of Secrets, and her hand raised subconsciously to the bald spot that was on her head from the healed burn that Riddle had put there. She had only told the story once, and that was to Hermione, after her best friend had been woken up and she had recounted it so clinically that she was sure that she had not felt a single thing about what had really happened.

It was true that her summer had been incredible, but no amount of lazing by pools and laying in the sun could stop the nightmares from coming. She could hear his voice even now, and how he had mocked her, and made her spin on her feet as if she was trapped in a jewellery box. She could feel her lungs burning as she struggled for air in the deep, cold water. It had taken her a while to want to even dance again, but realising that it was the one thing that was most likely to allow her to forget what had happened in the Chamber, she threw herself into it. She wanted to kill Draco for his little trick earlier than summer, but he had seemed so genuinely apologetic about it that she quickly forgot about it. She had not even spoken properly to her mother about it, and as absent as her mother had been during her summer she did not want to add to the list of her mother's problems.

She was glad that at that precise moment, Fred and George Weasley barged their way into the Leaky Cauldron, and the sounds of Mrs Weasley clucking over her twins was enough to distract Percy from continuing his sentence. Both of the Weasley men in front of her joined the matriarch as the twins shouted at their mother.

The back door of the Leaky Cauldron opened again and Narcissa Malfoy appeared with a tall bespectacled man that Lacie had never met before. Her mother glided across the Leaky Cauldron towards her daughter, and attracted the attention of its patrons. The women in groups huddled together and furiously whispered to one another. Even Mrs Weasley paused her lecture to her sons to gawk at Lacie's mother. Narcissa Malfoy only smiled and walked towards her daughter.

"Amos' son is more than happy to be your piano teacher," Mother simply said before ordering herself a tea at the bar, and a drink for her friend. "I have purchased all of the necessary materials for you."

Lacie peered at the thin bag that her mother was carrying. She had thought that it had been stationary for Draco, but upon realisation of what it really was, Lacie frowned.

"Piano lessons?"

"Oh, Lacerta, you were always so good at it and then you gave it all up," her mother said, before gently touching the man that Lacie assumed was _Amos_ , on the arm. "She was the most beautiful pianist; I could simply listen to her all day, oh and Draco was an excellent violinist - the two were a perfect duo."

"You have some talented children, Narcissa," the man replied with a smile.

Lacie crossed her arms and interrupted their conversation, "Why are you pushing for me to have lessons? You know I hated it."

"Well, maybe Amos' son will be able to reinvigorate your passion for it."

Her mother gave her an all-knowing smile before paying for the drinks. Mr Weasley stumbled over towards them and greeted her mother's friend.

"Amos! What brings you to London today? I thought you had done all of your shopping for Cedric already."

"I was having a spot of lunch with my friend Narcissa, here, I'm sure you've -…"

"Briefly," Mr Weasley said coolly, glancing over at Lacie's mother for a moment before returning his gaze back to Amos, "Have you known each other long?"

Amos looked at her mother, as if he was struggling to remember where their friendship began, but Lacie had been taught by her mother to read facial expressions and tells, and she could clearly tell that he was looking at her mother tentatively, as if asking her to respond. Lacie wanted to know what the secret was, and how they seemed to suddenly know each other. Lacie had never met the man before, and she did not know her Mother consorted with men like that. The men that her parents usually invited to parties had the same dour look and tailored robes. This man had neither.

"Ministry parties," her mother said smoothly, "When you attend so many, you make friends outside of your friendship group. Amos has always regaled Lucius and I with the most entertaining stories."

At the sound of her father's name, Mr Weasley paled and Lacie was sure he had clenched his jaw.

"And how is Lucius?"

"I would not know, as he and I have been separated for several months. What he did was unforgivable, and not only did he put your child at risk, he put my children and my daughter's best friend at tremendous risk. Mr Weasley, you must know that a mother's love is formidable."

"Indeed it is," Mrs Weasley had clearly been eavesdropping on the conversation, and came walking over, "It must have been difficult to leave your husband as you did."

Her mother gave the much shorter woman a nod, and motioned towards Lacie. Lacie walked to her mother, and the woman placed a hand on her shoulder.

"We should be going," she said to Mrs Weasley, "Busy day tomorrow."

Lacie had expected the other woman to nod, and bid them farewell before chattering to her husband about the encounter with Lacie's mother. She would also not put it past the woman to mutter something to her sons about how being a pureblood does not mean you have to exude class and the Malfoy family were too representative of the old ways. She did not expect an invitation to join them for dinner, as their children were all friends and she had never formally thanked Lacie for her involvement in finding and 'saving' her youngest daughter in May.

She also never thought that her mother would also agree to it.

x-x-x-x-x

Dinner with the Weasleys was a strained affair. Mother graced one end of the table, and was flanked by her two children, but as no one really got on with Draco, Hermione sat in between him and Fred so the twins would not prank him throughout dinner. Lacie was sat next to Harry, who seemed to watch on with great amusement. Lacie watched as Arthur Weasley ate his dinner meekly whilst monitoring the interactions between the two matriarchs at each end of the dinner table. Lacie was more interested in watching Hermione and Draco fervently whispering on the other side of the table, and Lacie only wished she would hear what they were muttering to each other about.

She was surprised that they were still being friendly. One of the conditions for Draco to remain in the villa in France was to act as if Hermione was his friend, and if there was the slightest of indications that she wanted to leave, Draco was to go. It had shocked Lacie to see Draco concede to it, and once back in England, to continue with it. There was an ease to how they were conversing that relieved her. Maybe for once her best friend and her brother would be able to get along at Hogwarts. If not, they always had their little bet.

One could dream, at least.

"Hermione, Ronald tells me that you scored perfectly in your end-of-year evaluation, and that you've chosen to do all of the extra third-year subjects," Percy said, interrupting their conversation. Hermione looked away from Draco to the elder Weasley brother.

"Er… yes," Hermione replied. "They all seemed so interesting, and I couldn't pick between them."

Ron snickered, "That was probably the most Hermione thing you've ever said."

Lacie rolled her eyes, and had she been sat next to Ron, she probably would have stamped on his foot, Mother's approval or not. Harry chuckled, and Lacie nudged him. Hermione had flushed a deep shade of red.

"I do not see what was so amusing about that thought that you had to speak it aloud."

The dinner table went quiet, and Lacie shot a glare at the person sitting across from her, who looked deep in thought, but he continued, "Surely everything that Hermione says, by virtue of it being from Hermione, would undoubtedly sound like her?"

Lacie was more surprised that he had addressed Hermione by her first name in front of her friends than the fact he had chosen to pick a fight with Ron. Ron seemed dumbfounded as to what to say next. It was rare that Ron had not thought of his actions and their consequences, maybe the joke had been one too good to pass up to think it through properly or there had been some unprecedented variable that had occurred he had not factored in. Lacie certainly had not expected Draco to stand up for her best friend.

"Draco," Mother started to warn her only son.

"But, _Mother_ , it was one of the dumbest things I have ever heard…"

"Like you're much smarter, how many extra subjects are you taking anyway?" Ron questioned, cutting him short. His expression had moved from gormless to angry in the space of a few seconds. His own mother then chided him, and the boy went pink.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him before saying rather nonchalantly, "Four."

Again, Ron did not know how to react, and neither did Lacie.

"That is one more than I am!" Lacie exclaimed across the table, to which Mother tutted at her, and reminded her to remember her manners at the dinner table. Lacie stopped herself short before she could tell her mother exactly what she thought of her precious manners.

Draco regarded her for a moment before saying rather smugly, "Well, they do say that I am the smarter twin."

"No one says that," Lacie may have said with an inkling of composure but she was anything but composed. Inside she was bubbling with irritation. He had done it on purpose, knowing that he would be touted at the cleverer twin, and that was something that absolutely could not happen. Lacie's hands clenched around her cutlery as Draco looked at her with a smug look.

"Children," their mother warned. Lacie and her brother shot their mother matching glowers. Mother ignored them and stared straight ahead at Mrs Weasley and sighed.

"Twins," she simply said with an air of exasperation.

"I know the feeling," the other woman replied with a smile.

One of the Weasley twins frowned at their mother, and the other asked how they were getting to King's Cross in an attempt to change the subject.

"The Ministry are sending some cars over in the morning."

"Why?" Percy asked, his attention piquing.

Mr Weasley looked shiftily at his wife, and his ears reddened. Lacie noted that it was a similar trait owned by his youngest son, and he was clearly thinking of a cover story for the reason why the Minstry were providing cars.

"I called a favour," Mother suddenly said.

Everyone turned to look at her as she added, "It would have been cacophony having us all on that… is it the Tube? Well, dear Cornelius was more than willing to loan me a several Ministry cars and I extended the invitation before dinner."

It was a story that seemed plausible to everyone else as they carried on eating their dinner and meaningless chatter began again around the table, but Lacie was not like everyone else. It was the second time that her mother was wearing a mask that day, as if she was concealing her real emotions and thoughts. Lacie wondered as she ate her way through her dessert what secrets her mother was keeping, and why she was so quick to explain everything. Lacie looked over at the Weasley parents and saw that they looked uneasy.

 _What is going on?_

Lacie felt a hand upon her own, and saw her mother regard her for a moment before saying, "I would not look too deep into things."

 _Why? What were they all hiding?_

x-x-x-x-x

"But… that is impossible."

Lacie had listened patiently to Harry as he told them about what he had overheard the previous night in the Leaky Cauldron. They were well settled in their compartment that they were sharing with another person, who Hermione deduced as being the potential new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Hermione had tried to release her familiar on the compartment but after protests from Lacie and Ron, she was outnumbered and it stayed in its carrier, scratching the living hell out of the lining of it. That was when Harry launched into his explanation.

At first, Harry had been wary to have the conversation whilst other people could hear, but when it was made clear that the man in their carriage was clearly fast asleep, Harry could not get the words out of his mouth fast enough. Some of it seemed to make sense, but a flood of questions seemed to also appear in Lacie's mind.

Ron Weasley cocked his head at her, "How?"

Lacie remembered back to a conversation that had happened so long ago that she was not sure that she remembered it correctly. She was sat in McGonagall's office once more, and she was sharing her fears about being a Gryffindor in a family full of Slytherins. Of course, those fears were naïve musings of a naïve girl, and there had been nothing to fear. She remembered how the conversation soon turned to the Azkaban convict, and how Lacie thought in that moment she would be disowned just like her cousin had been.

"Well, why would Sirius Black want to kill Harry? It does not make any sense. He was Harry's father's best friend, after all."

The other three turned to face her with incredulous looks upon their faces. None of them seemed to know this information, and Lacie suddenly felt embarrassed, especially after Harry demanded to know why he had not told him so.

"Well, how was I supposed to know you did not know?"

"Why do you even know?"

"McGonagall told me in first year… anyway, the reason why he went on that murder rampage was because he went mad after his best friend was killed by the Dark Lord."

Ron narrowed his eyes at her, "Why are you so defensive over Black?"

Lacie shrugged, "Sometimes I feel like I can empathise with him."

"A murderer?" Harry asked incredulously.

"No, as a person who was raised with certain values and beliefs but did not necessarily agree with them, and then gets Sorted in a different house as the rest of their entire family and having to coexist between the two spheres," Lacie explained, "He was a Gryffindor, like all of us."

"He is also her cousin," Hermione said lazily as she perused one of her new textbooks. Harry and Ron's mouth fell open.

"What?"

"That explains so much."

Lacie did not know who to address first: Hermione for completely dropping her in it; Harry to assure him that she did not have a pro-Sirius Black agenda, despite the man apparently attempting to kill Harry; or Ron because he was being his usual smug self.

"Second cousin, Hermione, and Ron _you_ are related to him too!"

Harry looked at Ron with his mouth agape and Ron narrowed his eyes at her.

"No, I'm not… otherwise I would be related to…"

Ron's own mouth fell open as he put two and two together, before pointing a long finger at Lacie. Lacie's smirk seemed to confirm one of his worst fears. She swatted Ron's finger away.

"Only very distantly, but I am not happy about it either."

Harry burst out laughing next to Ron; completely ignoring that one member of the compartment was fast asleep. Hermione looked wildly amused behind her book. Lacie rolled her eyes. He slapped Ron on the arm, and Ron had a face like thunder.

"Do not expect me to treat you like family."

"I would not," Lacie said, "Did you see what Harry did to his?"

Lacie puffed her cheeks and mimicked being blown up and floating, which sobered Harry up. It was Ron's turn to snicker and even though Harry had pursed his lips to refrain from laughing at his own magical outburst, he was soon chuckling. Hermione flicked a page in her book and carried on reading as Lacie and Ron teased Harry relentlessly about blowing up his own aunt. Lacie wondered if her best friend ever had her nose out of a book, or if the contents of an Arithmancy textbook were more interesting than teasing Harry.

 _Well, she would not find relentless teasing amusing, considering she was bullied before she went go Hogwarts_ , a quick voice said at the back of Lacie's head. The thought sobered her up, and she pressed ahead with different topics.

The witch with her trolley passed soon enough, and Harry was having severe trouble with containing several of his animated confectionary. Lacie rolled her eyes, as Ron stuffed his face with anything savoury. Hermione sipped on a Gillywater, still engrossed in her book. Seeing as her best friend was more taken with a tome, and the boys were talking incessantly about Quidditch, Lacie stared out of the window and as the trees flew past.

There was something about how the trees were slowing down that seemed to hypnotise Lacie, and she did not notice until too late that there was something quite wrong.

"What is going on?"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, moving over so he stood next to Lacie and peered out the window, and a similar look of confusion crossed his face.

"The trees… or the train rather are slowing -…"

The train suddenly stuttered to a stop, and Lacie stopped talking. The trunk that sat in the luggage rack, rattled and came close to falling. The cat carrier housing the _thing_ , also shook and a strangled mewling came out of it. Hermione looked desperately at Lacie, who forcefully shook her head. Harry stood up and walked to the compartment door and peered out of it, Ron wiped the condensation away from the window and looked out of the window for any clues as to why the train had halted. Hermione seemed nonplussed and was absorbed as ever in her book again. Lacie was not even sure that the girl cared that the train had stopped, or that Hermione thought it was normal for it to do so.

"Why has the train stopped?" Lacie asked, and Hermione looked up to assess the scene before her before returning to her book.

Harry pulled his head back into the compartment and shrugged. Lacie could hear voices outside of the compartment

"Maybe we're at Hogwarts."

Hermione put her book down at last and checked her watch, and frowned. "We shouldn't be there for another hour or so."

"Also I did not remember this amount of shrubbery at Hogsmeade," Lacie said, pointing out the window.

Without warning, the lights turned off and Lacie could hear screams down the compartments. As night had fallen outside, they were in complete darkness. Lacie steeled herself in the darkness as she heard panicked whispers around her. The compartment door opened and several people fell in to the discomfort of the occupants of compartment. Neville Longbottom had never been the most graceful of people, and as he collapsed over Harry's legs, Lacie was glad that she was just out of his way. She had not been so fortunate when Ginny Weasley stumbled in and sat on her, earning herself a venomous hiss from Lacie. The other girl squeaked and moved off her immediately. Lacie was glad that there was not the ginger monstrosity to deal with in this situation as well.

The compartment door opened again, but this time it was not a friend, or another student. Lacie could tell, because as soon as the door slid open the room went cold. It was so cold that where there had been once condensation on the window, it had frozen over. Goosebumps trailed up and down her arms, and she crossed her arms for warmth as a cloaked figure floated into the compartment. Its bony fingers wavered in the air, and Lacie could see her breath.

She could also hear an ear splitting scream.

" _Do you know what the Dark Lord does to the families of traitors?"_

She was in the Chamber of Secrets again, and her throat constricted as if someone was holding her by it. Someone was screaming, screaming so loud that Lacie raised her hands to cover her ears but the screaming did not subside. She could smell burning flesh, and she was suffocating in the scent, along with the piercing screams.

 _Please, please stop_.

"Lacie?"

The lights had returned and Lacie was cowering in her seat. Next to her, Harry lay still with his eyes closed and Ron was shaking him. Hermione looked pale, and her book had dropped to the floor. Neville had his hand on Lacie's shoulder. The new Professor that had been asleep was gone, but the lights had returned and the train was moving again. It had taken a while for Lacie to notice Ginny, but she was sitting resolute in her seat, a thin sheen of sweat visible on her face. Lacie could not stop shaking, and Neville's hand tightened on her shoulder. Hermione seemed to notice and looked at Lacie with concern.

"Are you alright?"

Lacie was saved from answering as Harry's eyes fluttered open, and he looked bleary eyed before taking his surroundings.

"Who screamed?"

"No one screamed," Hermione said, confusion filling her face.

"No," Lacie whispered, "Someone screamed, I thought I was going to go deaf with the noise."

Hermione glanced at her with confusion and slowly shook her head before repeating herself. "No one screamed, Lacie."

"But, Harry - …"

The new Defence professor swept in, and assessed all of the students, leaving Lacie's words hanging and unanswered. As he handed everyone a slab of chocolate, and watched as everyone consumed their piece, Lacie was wrapped in her own thoughts.

 _What was that creature, and why had it had that effect on me?_

* * *

 _A/N: A bit Lacie-centric but things are always interesting in her POV._

 _Small note to say that for the next two weeks whilst I crack down on my Master's dissertation, I will not be updating. I really should focus on editing my dissertation rather than my FF - as frustrating as that may be - but, I do have to prioritise._

 _In the two weeks that I won't be updating, you can catch up on the story with Bright Star and Bound By if you haven't already. The events of this chapter links with Chapters Seventeen - Nineteen (22-24 on FF)._

 _Happy reading,_

 _CSxo._


	6. His Offence, My Disgrace?

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Six: His Offence, My Disgrace?**

* * *

And, absorbed in the new life he leads,  
He recks not, he heeds  
Nor his wrong nor his vengeance; both strike  
On his senses alike.

Robert Browning from _After_

* * *

Draco waited anxiously as he ate his breakfast for his twin to arrive in the Great Hall for breakfast. He would have tried to talk to her the previous night, but she had been promptly swept up in a tide of scarlet and gold after the Feast had ended. The story of how Potter had fainted at the presence of a Dementor had travelled around the Great Hall quite quickly, and some of his had friends sniggered over the details over their main course. Draco, being in the knowledge that Lacie was tormented by nightmares, could not stop worrying about her.

There had been something in the pit of his stomach that knew that there was something wrong. On the train, he knew that the presence of the Dementors had been unpleasant, and he had mostly heard the raised voice of his father but somewhere within him he felt real fear, and it was something he did not attribute to himself. When the Dementors had left the train, he could not stop shaking, but again, it felt like an alien response. Thankfully, Pansy was keeping her distance from him and had not fussed over him. Theo noted that Draco was looking queasy. Draco was short with his reply.

 _Yes, one can always find joy with Dementors near them_.

After the Sorting Feast, he allowed himself to be dragged to the Dungeons when he realised he was not going to be able to talk to Lacie. His circle of friends had seemed mildly intrigued by Draco's summer in France. He relished in describing in great detail about the luxurious villa and the constant sun to the envy of his friends, so much so, he had forgotten about his sister. By the next morning, however, Draco was back to worrying about his sister.

Professor Snape was handing out the timetables for his year when Lacie finally appeared with Hermione, Potter and Weasley in tow. Draco made to move but his Head of House stopped him by forcefully shoving him back into his seat. Draco cast him a reproachful look.

"You can do as you wish _once_ I have handed you your timetable for the year, Mister Malfoy," he said, his voice was a low drawl that annoyed Draco. He could not fathom what pleasure Professor Snape was taking from keeping him in his seat and fussing about with the third-year timetables and handing out everyone else's before his.

The professor assessed it for a moment before, "I hope you continue to attain high marks in Potions despite the amount of subjects you are taking this year, I would not like to enrol you into remedial Potions because you are dillydallying with essays on Muggle transportation."

Draco nodded as he took his timetable from Snape and as the professor moved towards the fourth-years, Draco went to stand up to go to his sister. As he stood up, his timetable was snatched from his hands and Draco glared at the perpetrator.

"Since when were you taking _Muggle Studies_?" Theo asked with a grimace.

"Since my mother told me to," Draco answered, rolling his eyes overdramatically and pulling his timetable back, "She was adamant that I learn some compassion for Muggles considering Granger is a _friend of the family_."

He used air quotes at the notion of Hermione being a friend of the Malfoy family to highlight his disdain.

"What, even the big bad Draco Malfoy cannot go against his mother's wishes?" Blaise piped up as he sipped his coffee, he had that unpleasant glint in his eye that always seemed to deter Draco. Blaise was one of those friends that Draco had learned over the course of two years to keep close despite never really liking him, because of that old adage. It was better to know what he was up to, rather than be left in the dark and have the other boy scheme against Draco.

"You know better than to talk about one's mothers, Blaise," Draco said with a sickly sweet smile. He did not wait for him to respond, as he walked briskly across the Hall towards the Gryffindor table. Draco would never get used to the unpleasant glares from the immature Gryffindors, but for this reason it was worth it. He stopped short of Lacie when Weasley noticed him.

"Come to gloat about Harry just like your other smarmy friends, Malfoy?"

Lacie turned around and saw him. She gave him a weak smile.

"As much I would love to regale at how Potter fainted on the train, I have more important matters to attend to this morning," Draco retorted, he knelt on the ground beside Lacie before asking rather softly, "Are you alright?"

Her gaze followed him as he had knelt beside her, "You did not have to come over -…"

"I did, and you did not answer me."

There was something about Lacie's forced smile that felt hugely familiar, and unease danced between her grey eyes. She nodded at him, but there was something about it that did not convince Draco at all. However, Draco knew better than to talk about private matters under the gaze of nosy eavesdroppers. He watched as she turned to pick up a piece of toast, but before she could eat it, he plucked out of her fingers and bit into it. Lacie looked shocked for a moment, before pouting at him. After a moment, a small but genuine smile crept on her face.

If Draco was to achieve anything that morning, it was to cheer his sister up even infinitesimally. As he stood up, the stern Professor McGonagall was approaching her third-year Gryffindors. She seemed to make a beeline for him, the lioness of Hogwarts protecting her pride. She handed her students their timetables as she kept her stern gaze fixed upon him.

"Mister Malfoy, if you continue to loiter here, you will not be able to collect your timetable from Professor Snape," she said, a hard tone added to her usual bark. It was no secret that after Draco had told the entire school that the world would be better without Hermione Granger, a sentiment that he had regretted, that the Gryffindor matriarch held a certain disdain for him. It was also unfortunate that she had not been to a witness to his civility during the summer, too.

"I already have it," Draco said waving the piece of parchment that was his timetable. Lacie motioned for him to give it to her, and he did.

"You barely have any free time!" Lacie exclaimed as she pored over his timetable and compared it to her own.

Draco ran a hair through his hair as he grimaced, "I am taking one extra module compared to you, Professor Snape had to make allowances here and there, and it helps that I am the only Slytherin doing Muggle Studies…"

"You're doing Muggle Studies?" Weasley piped up. "Did someone cast a spell on the Malfoy family over the summer, or am I missing something?"

 _Honestly, how did one have sane thoughts in the morning with that inane commentary in the background?_

"Ever the tone of surprise," Draco muttered so quietly that he made sure that his sister was the only one who could really hear, and possibly Hermione. The other girl had sat quietly during the encounter and was sat with a book propped against a teapot. Lacie chuckled quietly, to the annoyance of Weasley. Draco mussed her hair before casting the ever-disapproving Professor McGonagall a glance.

"See you in Transfiguration, Professor."

The Professor gave him a stiff nod, which was to be expected.

"Granger."

Hermione turned to face him and looked mildly surprised that he had addressed her. She watched him carefully, before saying with a hint of a smile,

"Malfoy."

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie almost skipped down the corridor towards the Great Hall as she finished her first Ancient Runes lesson, everything had been so _fascinating_. She loved the subject, and learning about the history of Runes was a lot more interesting than Goblin rebellions and witch-hunts. Hermione paced beside her, carrying what it seemed to be all her textbooks in her bag. It had confused her seeing her with so many books even though they only had four classes that day but Lacie dare not ask. She grinned as she turned a corner and saw her brother walking in the opposite direction towards them, whilst chatting to Theo.

"Draco," she said, catching her brother's attention. Draco raised an eyebrow at her before smirking. Lacie could not help but notice that smiles were appearing more frequently on Draco's face, as if some sort of tension had been lifted from him. It was a welcome change and she could not forget how attentive Draco had been in the morning. She was sure that he had come over to gloat over Harry and her own weakness in front of a Dementor. She was sure he was going to remind her of her training, and that he was going to write to Father. Instead, he was kind and caring, and made sure that she was feeling better after the encounter, a trait she had not seen since they were children.

"Lacie, you seem awfully chipper."

Lacie snorted, "As do you, have you had Ancient Runes yet? It is _brilliant_."

"No, I start it on Monday, but I think we have Muggle Studies together after lunch."

Lacie's grin widened, "Maybe we could all study together for Muggle Studies."

It was Draco's turn to snort, as he appraised Hermione up and down. Lacie did not appreciate the way he eyed up Hermione and she stepped in front of her friend defensively.

"I would rather not."

Lacie's expression soured. She did not understand what was so wrong with Hermione that made Draco hesitant to even study with her. It was not as if she asked Draco to propose to her friend. Lacie looked apologetically at Hermione, who looked nonplussed. Lacie was suddenly grateful to have such an understanding friend, and internally made a small promise to be a bit kinder to her.

She did not understand her brother, it was only two days ago when he was defending her against Ron and they were whispering in the Leaky Cauldron. Two weeks ago, they were laughing beside a swimming pool as Hermione taught Draco how to dive. It seemed as if once Draco donned his emerald and silver tie, he was back to being the no-good Slytherin.

Not that his House had hindered him from being attentive that morning.

"Intimidated that I could actually teach you a thing or two?" Hermione countered.

Draco scoffed, "A filthy mutt like you? Never."

Lacie gasped and shoved Draco for calling her friend a mutt. It was not as bad as when he used to call her 'Mudblood' but it was not really any better. It almost had the same meaning. Theo, beside Draco, looked slightly amused and Lacie wanted to swat that amused expression off his face.

"Draco!"

"What? I could not imagine knocking heads with the likes of _her_ in the library."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Are you sure it wasn't your foul mouth that made Parkinson break off the engagement? I'm surprised they didn't do it seven years ago."

Lacie's mouth fell open. She had not expected Hermione to bring up that sort of information to throw back at her brother, especially as Lacie had told her in confidence. On one hand, she was glad that Hermione was defending herself from her brother, as Draco needed the occasional kick up the backside. On the other, she wanted to defend her brother and admonish Hermione for saying such a thing to him. She knew Hermione was going to be hurt by his sudden change in attitude, but she had not expected her to sink so low in her remarks.

Draco was now looking at the floor, and for some reason, he was smiling again.

"Of course."

Lacie was thoroughly confused as Hermione dragged her towards the Great Hall for lunch. On the way, they met Harry and Ron who were coming from their Divination lesson.

"Where did you go off to?" Ron asked Hermione, who was still pulling Lacie in the direction of the Great Hall.

"Ancient Runes," Lacie answered for him.

"But -…"

"I'm starving!" Hermione interrupted quite loudly, "So if we could hurry up to lunch, that would be great."

She did not know what had gotten into her friend, and why she was so suddenly so keen to get to lunch. Lacie had known Hermione for several years and eating was not her favourite part of her day. She was sure that Hermione would have wanted to know what to expect in her own first Divination class. _But why would Hermione not be in Harry and Ron's class, surely as a Gryffindor they would be in the same class?_ Lacie pushed that thought from her mind, maybe because Hermione was taking on so many subjects that they worked around the Houses and put her in whatever class was more convenient, just as they had with Draco.

Also, why was her friend not more perturbed by Draco's behaviour? After the summer, Lacie was sure that Hermione and Draco were friends and would continue to be so when they got to Hogwarts. Why had they reverted to a slanging match in the middle of a corridor? Lacie mulled over it for a moment before tucking into her lunch, soon forgetting what she had been thinking at the sight of Ron devouring his food as if there was an impending famine.

x-x-x-x-x

"Where are you going?"

Hermione turned to Lacie as she started to leave the Common Room with her brimming bag. She had never been a great liar to Lacie, but for now, she had to try. _What am I going to say?_

"The library."

Hermione wasn't, for all intents and purposes, lying.

"It is the first day, Hermione, why are you going to the library?"

"Lacie, I'm taking more subjects than you, if I don't keep up, I'll only end up having to spend the rest of the year catching up and I have books to return."

Lacie looked taken aback by her response, but didn't question it. As Hermione clambered out of the portrait hold, she was surprised that Lacie had not questioned her. However, Lacie was sat in the middle of the Common Room, stitching and fussing with a pair of ballet shoes, and irritating Harry and Ron in the process. Hermione glanced at her watch as she rushed down the magical staircases. It was a few minutes before seven o'clock. She wondered for a moment if he had understood what she had meant. It had been so vague, and she wasn't too sure, but if she made it more obvious Lacie would have seen through it in a millisecond and she couldn't risk that. Not yet.

As it was the first day of term, the library was quieter than usual, and Hermione made her way through the bookshelves. Her first port of call was to return the books she had borrowed from the library over the summer. The librarian's eyes roved over the tomes and glowered at Hermione when she checked the little sheet in the front of one of them. Hermione had forgotten about the mark that had appeared on it and internally cursed herself.

"Water damage to school property is a punishable offence, Miss Granger," the librarian said with a stiff voice.

"Yes, but - …"

"No buts, detention on Saturday morning, you will sort through the influx of books that have been returned after the summer holidays."

"Yes, Madam Pince, but it really wasn't -…"

"What did I say about 'buts'? Whilst it may have not been your fault that damage occurred to this book, it was under your care when the damage occurred and therefore your responsibility."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but knew better. As someone brushed past her, she could swear she could hear the faintest chuckle. She nodded as Madam Pince handed her a piece of parchment containing the details of her detention. She scowled at it for a moment and reminded herself to positively wring Lacie. She finally resigned herself to the tables in the library. She soon found the one in particular she was looking for and pulled her books out of her bag as well as her notebooks. She started on her Arithmancy homework, deducing her birth number and an essay on what that number meant.

A folded piece of parchment fluttered in front of Hermione, she peered at the parchment that was sitting atop her work and picked it up.

 _ **I thought you would not come.**_

Hermione looked across at the only other person sat on the elongated table that ran down the aisle between bookshelves and a small smile played on her lips. She could hear him scratching away at his work. She straightened the parchment, and wrote a response.

 _Why not?_

She folded it back up after the ink had dried and flicked her wand. The parchment went flying across the table again and landed on his work. He glanced at it, and looked up at her. He raised an eyebrow at her before opening the parchment. Hermione heard his soft chuckle, and he wrote a response. The parchment zoomed back to her.

 _ **I thought you might have had a change of heart.**_

 _Why would I have a change of heart? Wasn't the idea to keep up appearances?_

Hermione remembered back to their last night before Hogwarts, where she sat in between Draco and Fred to be a buffer. She particularly remembered him asking her if it was all right to keep being her friend but in private. At first, Hermione had felt a bit affronted, because surely they could be openly be friends. However, the more Draco explained, the more Hermione understood. She no more wanted to explain this 'friendship' to Harry and Ron did he to the likes of Nott and Zabini. Maybe once they could argue against the negative barrage they were to face, and then they could be more open about their friendship.

 _ **I cannot believe you brought Pansy into it, though.**_

Hermione winced. Lacie had expressed her anger that Hermione had said something that she had said in complete confidence in a corridor for anyone to hear. It also was slightly embarrassing for him, Hermione supposed. She couldn't imagine being only seven and having parents draw up marriage contracts for you. She was nearing fourteen and did not want to even think about it. It must have been difficult for Draco to have grown up with that over his head, and it explained why Pansy simply adored him for what seemed like little to no reason at all.

 _Are you angry?_

 _ **More amused. Not as amused that it is the first day and you already have a detention.**_

 _That's Lacie's fault, not mine. She was the one that threw my book in the pool, and_ I'm _stuck with the detention. I am going to kill her._

 _ **If you are expecting an apology from her, you will be waiting a long time. What do you have as your date number?**_

 _Nine_ _ **.**_

 _ **Typical, only you would have the number that symbolises selfless deed and humanitarianism. Did you know that nine is also a magical number?**_

 _I thought seven was a magical number._

 _ **Usually, but I was speaking mathematically. Multiply any number by nine, and you will always be able reduce it to nine. If you add a number to nine, it will always reduce to itself. The influence of nine is quite intriguing.**_

He had written out some sums at the bottom of the parchment to illustrate his point and Hermione smiled. She looked across at him, but he was focused on his work, flicking through an Arithmancy textbook and scribbling notes. Hermione looked at the parchment in front of her, and noted that Draco had better handwriting than she had expected. In fact, it was probably nicer than Lacie's, but Hermione would rather face a Dementor again before telling her that. She wrote a quick note before sending it off.

They sat in silence, passing notes back and forth for the next hour mostly about the work that they had been set, or at least until Madam Pince told them that the third-year curfew was nearly arriving. Hermione packed her books up, almost mirroring the boy sat further away. Hermione watched as Draco studied the pieces of parchment that they had been sending back and forth, and as he walked to one of the blazing fireplaces in the library. He cast Hermione a cursory glance, and Hermione knew what he was about to do. She nodded.

He threw the notes in the fireplace and walked away. He was merely covering for himself, and as Hermione watched the parchment char and burn, she did not blame him.

x-x-x-x-x

Severus swept into the Hospital Wing, with such a gusto that all of the Slytherin third-years who were huddled around a single bed – yes, all of them – jumped aside and parted as if the Slytherin Head was the proverbial Red Sea.

The moment that he had been informed that his godson had been admitted to the Hospital Wing due to a Care of Magical Creatures lesson gone awry, he had cancelled the rest of his classes and rushed to the Hospital Wing to check on the idiotic boy. A rash decision, the Deputy Headmistress had noted as she reluctantly gave him the permission to do so, as Draco was in the care of one of the best Healers in the country. She, however, knew better than to keep Severus in a foul mood, especially where the boy was concerned. That was if she valued the glittering rubies sitting in her hourglass.

 _Don't tell me, Severus_ , the elder witch's words swam in his mind, _you've finally found compassion, and you care for your godchildren at long last?_ Severus would rather bathe in a bath of Bubotuber pus than admit that he had an inkling of feeling towards Draco Malfoy or his twin, but he would take the Bubotuber pus over Narcissa Malfoy, who no doubt would flay him alive if she found out he had displayed indifference to her children.

"Why are all of you here? Have your lessons been magically cancelled and I am unaware of it?" he hissed at the lot of them, and most of them turned on their heel to scurry out of the Hospital Wing. Two people remained. The Parkinson girl was dillydallying and Theodore Nott was firmly rooted to the spot. Parkinson, it seemed, despite her family's shifting allegiance still cared for Draco but she was of no use in the Hospital Wing. Severus also knew that Draco would appreciate her dismissal.

"Parkinson, what are you _still_ doing here, did you not hear me the first time?"

The girl whined a little, but knowing better than to cross the thunderous expression that Severus was wearing, she skulked out of the Hospital Wing. The matter of Nott, on the other hand…

"Nott, you have permission to stay with Mister Malfoy, but could you wait outside the Hospital Wing whilst I have a word with him?"

The boy looked at the whimpering boy on the bed, before back at Severus and nodded, turning briskly on his heel. Severus turned his attention back to the subject in question, and kept a cool mask affixed to his face.

"Have you completely lost your mind? I know for fine fact that you were not dropped on the head as a child, so my conclusion can only arrive to the fact that you have finally succumbed to insanity."

Draco Malfoy knew better than to mewl in front of him. He would garner more warmth from a houseplant than Severus Snape. The boy gave him a glare that was reminiscent of the woman that he was dreading hearing scarlet correspondence from.

"Well?"

"I am injured, you know."

"I did not come here to offer sympathy, boy, I came here to ascertain what in Merlin's name you hoped to achieve when you provoked a Hippogriff?"

"It attacked me!" the boy exclaimed, gesticulating and waving his injured arm and causing himself unnecessary pain. Draco wailed loudly and the matron rushed to his side, but not before Severus had sat next to him and had undone the bloody bandages wrapped around Draco's arm. He peered at the bloody mess, and the deep gashes in the boy's thin arm. The matron did not appear impressed by his brusqueness.

"Severus!"

"The injury is to the bone," Severus noted lifting the arm and peering at it from different angles. "Did you even so much even note that the Hippogriff you provoked had long, sharp talons?"

"It attacked me," Draco repeated, wincing his time.

"Hippogriffs are immensely proud creatures, and would not have attacked you without provocation, much like yourself," Severus said, still assessing at the deep wounds that were still oozing blood. He took the thick paste that Poppy had prepared and was about to apply to the boy's arm. Severus spread it carefully on his arm, and ignored the moans emanating from Draco.

"I forgot to warn you, this stings a little."

"A little?" The boy questioned incredulously. Severus slapped some more paste on, and Draco continued moaning. A small sound escaped the matron's lips but Severus ignored her.

"Maybe this is a lesson to hold your tongue, and think carefully about the consequences of your actions."

The boy grimaced, and stuck out his lower lip as he sulked. Severus bound the arm gently with bandages again. When he was done, he stood up and watched as the boy inspected his fresh bandages.

"Your talents are wasted as a Potions Master, Uncle Sev, you should have just become a Healer instead."

"Less of the smart mouth, Mister Malfoy, or I will tell Flint that your arm injury to so severe you can no longer play Quidditch."

Severus resisted the urge to chuckle as the boy glowered at him. After assuring Poppy that he would brew the necessary potions, he left the Hospital Wing. He informed Nott that the boy was to return to classes the next day, and the sullen boy nodded. Snape returned to his own quarters, readying himself to brew the onslaught of potions so his godson's arm did not fall off. The day had already taken for a worse before he even went into his office to see what awaited him there.

No less than three red envelopes sat bouncing on his desk, as did the owl that he had once gifted a friend. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose as he prepared for the onslaught to commence. Another owl floated through whatever damned entrance the winged menaces seemed to find to get into his office. This owl was carrying a plain envelope. Not wanting to particularly hear Narcissa screaming, he chose to open the plain one. He noted the luxurious stock as he propped the letter open before quickly scanning it.

"Fuck."

 _This day could actually get worse._

* * *

 _A/N: In reference to what Draco was saying, here is some maths.  
_

 _Multiply by 9, reduce to 9: 5x9=45, 4+5=9 or 12x9=108, 1+0+8=9._

 _Add by 9, reduce to itself: 6+9=15, 1+5=6 or 8+9=17, 1+7=8_

 _Therefore, the effect of 9 can be overpowering or it can have no effect, kinda neat, right?_

 _Sorry, I was gone to long, but I will update today and Thursday to apologise for my extended hiatus. However, the thesis is finally in, I have officially completed my Masters degree and I have a bit of a break now. So after this Thursday, it will be back to updating every Thursday.  
_

 _I love writing Snape/anyone stuff, it just is a different tone to the rest of the characters. Also, I know canonically Malfoy gets attacked during the first day at Hogwarts, but you know, fluff before fact._

 _Happy reading,_

 _CSxo_


	7. Society's True Ornament

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: Society's True Ornament**

* * *

Dear, had the world in its caprice  
Deigned to proclaim "I know you both,  
"Have recognized your plighted troth,  
Am sponsor for you: live in peace!''

Robert Browning from _Respectability_

* * *

After a long week of lessons, the attack of her brother by a Hippogriff, and the vendetta that her father had announced on Hagrid, the last thing that Lacie wanted to do was have a piano lesson with this Diggory boy. She had already started her day with a strenuous ballet lesson with Miss Belle-Faire and did not particularly want to entertain her mother's whims. Her mother had sent a reminder letter that morning, too, as if Lacie would risk having Professor Snape escort her personally to this ridiculous charade.

Sighing as she pushed open door, the sounds of a sad melody swirled around her. The pianist was facing away from her, lost completely in the song he was playing and Lacie could only stand and listen. Her heart swelled as the notes he played reached a crescendo, before dropping into a something quieter and more delicate. As the song drew to a close, Lacie found herself clapping.

He turned around, and Lacie was surprised by how good-looking he was and when he stood, Lacie had to crane her neck in order to speak to him face-to-face.

"Sorry, I just got carried away," he said and held out his hand, "I'm Cedric."

"Lacie Malfoy," Lacie said, taking his hand. His grip was gentle, just like the hand she had in hers. She felt her cheeks heat up at the thought of it.

 _Stop it! I will not think about him that way._

"I know, you fell on me after your dance in the Great Hall last year," he said as his mouth fell into an easy grin, "My friend, Cynthia, couldn't stop talking about it for days."

Lacie was humbled for a moment that he remembered her name, but being as notorious as she was: starting food fights, an extended amount of time in Beauxbatons, the dance display and her infamous trip to the Chamber of Secrets; she was not so surprised that he did.

 _So much for humility._

Lacie took a deep breath, and opened her mouth to start telling him exactly how she felt about these lessons.

"If you're here to tell me that you've decided to not take piano lessons from me, you're wasting that deep breath you just took."

"No offence, Cedric - …"

"None taken."

"Look, I do not know where my mother gets these ridiculous notions from but -…"

"Well, at least do it to spite your own mother, do you know how much she is paying me?" A mischievous glint appeared in his grey eyes. Lacie was slightly taken aback.

"Are you sure you are a Hufflepuff?" she asked whilst raising an eyebrow.

He laughed, and it seemed genuine. Lacie stood slightly open-mouthed. Once he was done, his mouth was pulled in a crooked smile. He cocked his head at her, and offered her the piano seat. She took it, despite herself, out of confusion.

"Did you really think that Hufflepuffs are simply kind creatures that you could underestimate? Typical Gryffindor," he said, conjuring some sheet music. "I want to establish how well you can play, so I will ask you to play several melodies all increasing in difficulty."

Lacie gave him a sour look, but looked at the manuscript in front of her. This one was simple enough; she managed to play it through once without any major hiccoughs. He asked her to play it again. By the third time, she had perfected the whole melody, and she looked at him cockily.

"Again."

"Again?"

He looked at her without answering. Lacie gave an insolent sigh before saying again, this time taking more care with the dynamics littered above the notes. When she was done, and he asked her to do it again, she slammed her hand on the keys, flooding with room with a discordant tune.

"I can already play this perfectly," she complained as she crossed her arms. "Give me something else to play."

He pulled a chair next to her with a frown on his face, "Whilst I admit last time you paid more attention to the dynamics and finally ended it _piano_ , you still play it as if you don't want to."

"You are correct," Lacie countered, "I do not want to play."

"…Because you don't see the point of even being here," he finished for her.

Lacie glared at him and wanted to see disapproval in his grey eyes but she saw none. He only looked at her kindly, and there was warmth in his eyes that Lacie did not normally see in people she disobeyed.

"Yes."

"Look," he said leaning on the edge of the piano, "As much as you may think that this is a waste of time, when you could be learning about duels or magical creatures, I assure you it is not. When I hear a piece of classical music, this funny sort of feeling in my chest, and I can almost feel all the emotions that the composer tried to convey when he wrote a particular song.

"Our magic is tied with our emotions, and playing the piano helps me, at least, to be in tune with different emotions and that in turn has made me in tune with my magic. The more I am in tune with my magic, the better I am as a wizard. It all connects, you see."

"So, to you it is not a pretty parlour trick?" Lacie inquired.

Cedric flicked a lock of hair out of his face before grinning, "Well…"

Lacie rolled her eyes, and he continued looking at her. She suddenly felt uncomfortable in her seat, being so on display to the boy, and Lacie could not deny any longer that he was good-looking, and although he was being sarcastic about it, he did not seem to think his looks were important. She turned back to sheet in front of her.

"So, how is this piece supposed to make me _feel_?"

He raised an eyebrow at her tone but did not say anything. Cedric stood up and motioned for her to move across the piano seat. When she obliged, he sat next to her and started to play. She thought she was imagining it, and although it was a simple song, she felt happy in the pit of her stomach. Cedric seemed to play with gusto and flew past the silly mistakes she had made, whilst caring to every _crescendo_ and _diminuendo._ When he finished, Lacie felt a small lump in her throat.

"What did it make you feel?"

"Happy, I guess, like I can make it through the rest of this lesson without frowning."

"Is that a promise?"

Lacie glowered at him and he laughed again before resuming his own seat beside her. He gestured at her and invited her to play. Lacie looked down, trying to conceal her smile. She brushed her fingers against the keys and before she started playing again, she glanced up at him. Some small part of her was giddy with the fact he was staring at her.

That giddiness dissipated when he made her play it again five more times.

x-x-x-x-x

Draco made a dramatic return to class the next Thursday morning. He swaggered into the Potions classroom, his bandaged arm in tow to the surprise of his classmates who were brewing Shrinking Solutions. His friends had visited him on-and-off for the past week, but he was beginning to tire of the Hospital Wing and its disgusting salves. He had almost ran to Potions after the school matron signed him fit for classes again, with the warning to keep away from Hippogriffs.

 _I think I have learned my lesson this time_ , Draco thought to himself. Theo made to move some of his things to his half of the bench in anticipation of Draco's return. Pansy looked concerned and was about to speak to him but he gave her no such opportunity. He spotted an empty space next to Hermione and walked to it, eliciting gasps from his friends. The girl paused in chopping her daisy roots to gape at him.

"Settle down," Professor Snape said with a slight tilt to the side of his pursed mouth, "Would you care to explain why you have decided to mess up my meticulous seating plan, Mister Malfoy?"

Well, Professor," Draco replied, "As much I deign to admit it, Granger is the most competent person in the class… after myself, of course, and as my arm is so indisposed…"

"I am more than competent than you are," Hermione hissed as she turned red.

"One point from Gryffindor, for speaking out of turn, Miss Granger. Mister Malfoy, continue."

"Well, as I was saying, as my arm is rather indisposed and I would require help in this class, and I think it better to receive it from someone comparable to my own grades so they reflect my performance accurately."

"Very well, until Mister Malfoy's arm is completely healed, you are instructed to aid him in whatever he wishes, Miss Granger."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the Potions Master before giving a curt nod.

"But, Professor - …"

"Two points from Gryffindor, what did I say about speaking out of turn, Miss Malfoy?"

Lacie opened her mouth to retaliate but the Professor challenged her, "Do you want to make it an extra three?"

Hermione elbowed Lacie in the arm, and she shut her mouth. Lacie gave Draco a dirty look before returning to her own ingredients, although approaching them with a lot more ferocity. Draco snickered as he struggled to set his cauldron on the bench with one hand. Hermione watched him for a moment before resigning herself and coming to his aid. She even helped him set it alight, before returning to her own potion. She did not speak to him, and he knew why. She feared losing even more points for speaking out of turn, and whilst the Slytherins chattered away, the Gryffindors were forced to work in a sullen silence.

Draco went to the storeroom to gather the ingredients for the class, and hoped that he would be able to complete the potion in the allocated time. He could not afford any more time off, and if his grades suffered, he would get a Howler from both of his parents and be ineligible for the Quidditch Team. Flint had guaranteed his position as Seeker for third-year despite missing the try-outs over the weekend, but even Draco could not pay off policy.

He returned to the bench, and placed his roots on the bench and held the roots with his injured arm and picked up the knife. He struggled for a moment before Hermione hissed over at him.

"You're going to chop a finger off, here let me," she said taking the knife gently from him. She started chopping the roots quickly and evenly.

"I can manage."

"Clearly not," she muttered, "Also, seeing as you made your grandiose speech about asking the second-most competent person in this classroom to aid you, and since I have been further instructed to do so, let me at least help you."

She chopped his roots as well as skinning his Shrivelfig. She returned to her own potion, and scanned the blackboard for further instruction. Draco read the instructions in Snape's neat scrawl and started on his potion. The girl had finished her stirring and was sitting as she waited for her potion to brew. Draco threw his ingredients into his cauldron, and occasionally peeked at her in silence. Whilst he waited for his to simmer, he knocked his knife to the floor purposefully.

Draco bent over to pick it up but let out a fake groan. The girl could not resist as she let out a frustrated noise and went to pick up his knife for him.

"Same time, same place tonight?" he whispered. Her eyes widened before they narrowed again. She slammed his knife onto the bench.

"Why?"

"Why ever not?"

"I thought you were too busy playing the victim to ever consider it," she said acidly. She noted the time and went to stir her potion, occasionally adding other ingredients before stirring vigorously.

"I did not know I had imagined a Hippogriff attacking me," Draco said sarcastically, "I must be wearing these bandages for fun."

"I -…"

"I know what you meant, your half-giant friend is now in trouble because I thought I would use my witty mouth against a Hippogriff and ended up almost being its dinner," Draco sighed. He started dropping more ingredients into his cauldron and stirred with his right arm as he did so. "If I had thought properly about the consequences, instead of trying to get one over on Potter, I would not have acted so rashly."

" _You're_ sorry about getting Hagrid in trouble?" the witch whispered incredulously, almost dropping her metal rod in shock.

"No," Draco said, rolling his eyes, "Have you not seen the _Prophet?_ "

"Of course I have, amongst Sirius Black sightings and the attempted ministrations from the Ministry, I may have seen a thing or two regarding your father."

"Yes, he seems rather adamant in fighting for your friend's resignation."

"Because of you," Hermione said, adding more things into her cauldron.

"No."

"No?"

"Father believes that if he succeeds in the trial, it shows that he truly cares for his children and would never do anything to harm them. Professor Hagrid and that Hippogriff are purely collateral damage in his scheme."

Hermione's mouth pressed into a thin line as she continued stirring. He waited patiently for her to deduce what he was hinting at. He looked over at Lacie who was stubbornly stirring her potion and determinedly ignoring his presence. If she could hear what he was saying, she made no indication or commented on it. Out the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Hermione pause, but he continued focusing on his own potion.

"If your father shows that he truly cares for you, your mother will go back to him, because that's why she left, isn't it? Because he put Lacie in danger last year."

"Correct, any other inferences?" Draco asked quietly.

"If your mother returns to your father, the family unit would be restored along with the Malfoy political standing, your family's status would also return."

"Precisely, Father has always relied on Mother to curry favour with high-ranking officials."

There was a pregnant pause.

"I suppose it is all my fault," Draco said, with a small sigh.

"How do you deal with it all?" she asked tentatively, as Professor Snape started making his rounds. He peered at the witch's cauldron before turning his attention to Draco's one. He barely gave Draco an upturned lip before moving on. Draco continued after the Professor was inspecting another cauldron.

"Being a pureblood is not all rainbows and unicorns, especially a pureblood from a family like mine," Draco explained. "I envy the naïveté that comes with being a Muggleborn."

"Yes, such naïveté is pleasant amongst the insults and dressing-downs, but I suppose it is a relief not to analyse and second-guess every action in case it affects my family's political standing."

"Yes, now you see why I wish I had thought more before pissing off a Hippogriff."

"Language."

"Yes, _Mother_."

"But, in all seriousness, surely it cannot be bad that your mother goes back to your father, and your family's political standing returns?" she questioned, quirking an eyebrow.

Draco added his leeches before stirring carefully. He thought about how much he should give away in a classroom. If anyone could hear him, it was not as easy as burning a piece of parchment.

"The pressure is not so great to be a perfect example of a respected _pureblood_ when we are out of favour," he said quietly, staring at his potion. He did not want to look at her as he spoke. "Even Lacie knows when to act properly, she may have that streak of Gryfindor recklessness, but she would not intentionally do anything to disgrace the family."

"Aside from being Sorted into Gryffindor."

Draco snorted quietly, "The _ultimate_ betrayal, of course."

"And all of your friends do this? Act in due accordance because of your blood status?" Hermione asked.

She glanced behind him and at the sour expression that was no doubt on Pansy's face. Draco could almost guarantee that she was watching them like a hawk, but Draco hated to disappoint her of scandal. All Hermione was doing was brewing her own potion and helping out Draco when he needed her to. In fact, their interactions were so limited that Draco could no doubt guffaw about it in the Common Room, and describe in lavish detail how he made the class mutt into his personal house-elf. Draco nodded when she turned back around to face him.

"Why?"

"Read up on the Sacred Twenty-Eight," Draco replied shortly, not wishing to elaborate further in the classroom.

"Giving me reading assignments was not part of the deal," the witch complained as she waved her wand in the shape as directed on the board.

"You would still enjoy them."

She turned to face him, and rolled her eyes. She peered in her cauldron before casting a spell to put the fire underneath her cauldron out. She opened her mouth to reply but the Professor warned the class that there was only fifteen minutes before the class ended and that they should be starting to bottle up their brews for grading. Draco knew that he was at least half an hour from completion and groaned internally.

His first day back in lessons, and he was already spending extra time in the Potions classroom over his lunch hour.

Ten minutes before the bell went for lunchtime, Professor Snape swept around the class, handing out their summer homework, and making scathing comments at everyone as he did so. He stopped in front of Draco, and as he handed Draco back the several pieces of parchment that he had used for 'his' essay, it was clear that the man was trying to resist a smirk.

"Mister Malfoy, over four rolls of parchment was wholly unnecessary for the work I set over the summer, please refrain from overtaxing yourself in the future, especially given your current state," the Potions Master drawled. He handed Hermione her single parchment without commentary before heading towards the rest of the Gryffindors.

Lacie, who was over her frustration with Professor Snape and Draco, peered across at them.

"So, what did you get?"

Hermione's mouth had fallen a little as she read through her essay.

"I got nine out of ten, but lots of commentary about how short it was," she whispered, before turning to Draco and questioning him on what marks he had received for his essay.

He winced as he glanced at the angry red number at the top of his sheet, and when Hermione saw his face. Her mouth closed as she smiled widely at him.

"I got an eight out of ten."

Lacie snorted behind Hermione so loudly that people turned to look at her. Hermione's eyes were so round, as her mouth open for a second time. She opened and closed it, as if she was a fish. Draco bit his lip to stop himself from bursting out in laughter at the sight of her.

"I don't believe you," Hermione said, and reached over to Draco's side and grabbed the homework that she had originally written. However, unmistakeable as it was, her original essay had scored lower than Draco's. Lacie was feverishly whispering to Potter, and the boy seemed to be unable to conceal his gormless grin behind his hands quick enough.

"You cannot be serious," she muttered.

"You cannot be serious, _Lord Malfoy,_ " Draco corrected, and he could swear he heard her hair crackle in annoyance.

"No."

"A bet is a bet."

Draco watched as Hermione turned to Lacie, probably to find if there was some wizarding loophole around the terms of the bet that meant that she did not have to fulfil her side of the bet, but she seemed to compose herself before looking darkly at him.

"Fine, but it doesn't mean I like it," Hermione finally said before adding as scathingly as she could, " _Lord Malfoy_."

Draco grinned as he returned to his potion. This was going to be an interesting three days.

x-x-x-x-x

Given the chance to face the Boggart, the class pushed into a neat but excited line to face it. Harry watched with amazement as it changed from seemingly scary creatures or objects to something remotely amusing as Lupin called out his Housemates to approach the Boggart. Personally, Harry didn't know what he would find particularly frightening… it didn't come to him as easily as Ron, whose Boggart was an alarmingly accurate replica of Aragog, which had caused all of the girls aside from Hermione to scream at the sight of it. When Harry thought about it, he was probably quite scared of Dementors, more than anything. He wasn't alone in his quest to find what scared him, as even Hermione wondered aloud what she would be afraid of. To his right, Harry noticed that Lacie was moving slowly to the back of the queue, she had originally been behind Ron, but let Seamus go ahead of her, and then Lavender and Parvati. She wordlessly let people pass her, and his Housemates' eagerness to tackle the Boggart meant they were more than happy to oblige. Harry did wonder how long it would go unnoticed, as it wouldn't take long for all ten students in the staff room to all try and defeat the Boggart.

"Miss Malfoy, you next!"

Harry watched as the girl took a breath and then calmly stating, "Professor, I do not want to face the Boggart."

"Pardon my saying so, but ridiculous, come up to the front," Lupin said kindly.

"Other people have not had a go yet, surely I can wait my turn," Lacie countered.

"Nonsense," Lupin said, "Come now. All you have to do is imagine your fear, and how you can make it seem less scary and then say _Riddikulus_."

Harry didn't know why Lacie was being so reluctant, or why Lupin was pushing the issue. Harry wanted to go against the Boggart, but instead Lupin was focusing on Lacie. Lacie shook her head, but Seamus found it fit to shove her to the front. She uncharacteristically tripped over her feet and stumbled in front of the Boggart. Harry watched as her eyes widened but she held out her wand, ready to defend herself against the Boggart. There was a crack, and as the Boggart focused on her fear, and Harry jumped back at what he saw.

In the classroom was the tall, handsome figure that was Tom Riddle. He was pale and intimidating in his Slytherin robes, with Harry's wand in his hand. There were whispers of confusion, but Harry knew. He could not move, in case he attracted the Riddle's attention. _That was a silly thought, considering that it was Lacie's Boggart._ He didn't want to tell the class that Lacie's fear was a young Voldemort, especially as everyone would run away screaming.

Lacie was frozen to the spot, and Harry noticed that she was shaking violently.

" _Do you know what the Dark Lord does to the families of traitors?"_ Tom Riddle announced to the class. " _Lacerta, I will kill your family, your friends, even that Mudblood pet you keep, and make you dance in front of them as I do so. No one will be spared by me, for this is what it means to defy Lord Voldemort."_

Gasps echoed around the class and Harry could feel people backing away. He could tell by Lupin's face that things had quickly gone very wrong, and his attempt to be a good teacher and coax a weaker student had backfired horribly.

"Lacie, do something," Harry called out to her.

The blonde girl stood, transfixed at the Boggart but she was shaking so badly that her wand slipped out of her hand and clattered onto the floor. Riddle laughed menacingly. It was clear that Lacie couldn't do _anything_ , as this fear was so deeply rooted in her. Harry made to move her out of the way of the Boggart, as the class jeered at her incompetence. It was a refreshing change for the rest of the Gryffindors to see something that Lacie _couldn't_ do, as the only person more adept than her was Hermione. Of course, the class didn't know that it was only a few months ago that Riddle had almost killed Lacie in the Chamber of Secrets. As Harry neared Lacie, Lupin finally did something and stepped in front of her. The Boggart changed into an orb, before Lupin lazily cast the counter-charm.

Lacie stepped back, almost stumbling again and ran from the room, and Harry thought he could see tears billowing down her reddened cheeks. The class parted to let her go, and Harry saw Hermione try and reach out to stop her friend but decided against it. Neville was called to the front for a second time and his counter-curse finished off the Boggart. When the wisps it had exploded into had dissipated, Harry went to the front of the classroom to pick up Lacie's wand. As he looked at it, he knew that something was wrong. He remembered when she had stood up to Lockhart, and she hadn't been afraid at all.

 _I can take it._

The memory burned in his mind. Lacie, held by the neck by a sadistic memory and telling Harry that she could take it. Harry stood up and turned to leave the staff room, determined to find Lacie. He was distracted as a timid Cheryl spoke up.

"Who was that?"

Harry turned to her with a kind smile and debated for a moment whether or not to openly tell everyone. He took a deep breath before answering, "The Heir of Slytherin."

"So, it's true?" she asked, "About what happened?"

Harry didn't want rumours to fly about again about what had happened in the Chamber. He had heard enough the first time around. Harry had been possessed and Lacie had drove whatever it was possessing him out. It was Ginny Weasley, and she had lured them to the Chamber to kill them. It was Lacie. No one had been close to the truth before, and Harry had ever been bothered to correct anyone.

"He said he would kill her family and her friends," Parvati said in a stage whisper before looking at Hermione and blushing. Harry knew why, the Boggart had referred to his friend as a _Mudblood pet_. Hermione stared defiantly back, as if to dare the non-entity to try and kill her. From knowing Hermione for two years, the girl was virtually indestructible, and Harry was grateful that no attempt on her life had stuck. His eyes roved over to Ron, who nodded at him and pulled Hermione out of the classroom. Harry went to follow them but was stopped by someone.

"Look, I'm sorry for shoving her," Seamus said, red-faced and fidgeting with the sleeve of his robe, "I didn't know."

"I'm not the person you should be apologising to," Harry replied curtly before composing himself and adding, "Look, mate, I didn't even know that she was still scared of him."

Seamus smiled weakly at him, and Harry continued out of the classroom. In the background, he could hear in the background Lupin call the class to order and he handed out points for those combating the Boggart. He didn't know which direction Hermione and Ron had taken but carried on walking. He wandered down the corridor and looked for signs of Lacie. As he passed a room, he thought he could hear sniffling. He pushed open the door to an unused classroom, and could hear soft crying. Harry stepped in, following the sound of the crying.

x-x-x-x-x

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Lacie had not spent all of those hours in front of those animated dummies, honing her combat skills during her childhood, or practising against several threats, to break down in front of the entire class. She had faced a Boggart before. She knew what to do, but she had inched away from it, knowing what it would reveal. _Do not let them break you_. She had forgotten the first rule of her training, and she was utterly broken. If only she had been stronger, or had hid herself better from Lupin she may not have had to face the creature. If only she had made a convincing argument why she could not face the Boggart, but fear had crept into her throat and she could not manage more than a pathetic excuse. Lupin would have understood if he had known the truth.

She knew what that screaming was now. She finally understood the screaming that had confused her when the Dementors had approached her. That was her screaming. She did not remember screaming so loud as Riddle burned into her temple, and was surprised she had not deafened him. She pulled her knees tighter to her body. Her throat was closing up on her as she cried, and she could not stop shaking or rocking herself as she hid under an unused teacher's desk.

 _Breathe_ , _Lacie!_

She could not. Her heart was racing as she struggled to breathe, and the tears stung her eyes as they fell down her cheeks. She clutched at her knees, her nails digging painfully as she tried to breathe. Her breaths only came out as haggard gasps as she did so. Her throat was tight and she sobbed as she gasped for air.

 _She was back in the Chamber of Secrets, and was being thrown into the pool, over and over again, as if she was rubbish. Riddle only saw her as disposable compared to Harry._

"Lacie?"

Lacie could only manage to respond with a squeak. She still could not breathe, and as the figure appeared in front of her and dropped to their knees, tears were so firmly glazed in her eyes she did not recognise who it was.

"Lacie."

The person pulled her forward into their arms. When Lacie felt the softness of their jumper along with their comforting scent, she descended into more sobs, the reverberations spasming through her body. The person only clutched her tighter, rubbing her back. She shook terribly as she breathed, loud gasps that only made her cry even more. The person holding her rocked gently, trying to soothe her.

"Please, please calm down, Lacie."

"I am s-s-sorry, I am just-just being p-pathetic!"

"You are annoying, and intolerable sometimes, but you are far from pathetic."

Lacie wiped her wet eyes with her robes, and looked at the person who was holding her. Her eyes met with green ones, and she continued crying.

 _Of course Harry would come and find you. Only he knows what happened down in the Chamber of Secrets. Only he understands. He was different though, because when he had seen Riddle, he had not run away or anything._

"Why am I so scared?" Lacie whispered, burying her face into Harry's jumper.

"Riddle tried to kill you, and your family. He did some horrible things to you in the Chamber of Secrets, if you weren't afraid that would be a surprise."

"Riddle tried to kill you too, and you are not scared," Lacie said.

"Riddle tried to use a basilisk to kill me, and he's already killed my family if you think about it," Harry replied, "He didn't hold a wand to my head and burn me, he didn't animate mybody to spin around until I was sick and weak. He did some horrible things to you in the Chamber, so I don't expect anyone to understand for a moment how frightening it really was."

Lacie clutched at his jumper and nuzzled into him further. He froze for a moment, not knowing what to do, and Lacie felt his heartbeat quicken for a moment but it was so minimal that she was sure she may have imagined it. Her own heart, was beating furiously against her ribcage. Lacie tried to pull away, but he only held her closer to him.

"I know you, Lace, you like to fight your own battles, but I'm here for you. So the next time you face a Boggart and it's Riddle, just imagine his face when you stabbed his diary and _defeated_ him."

She could feel his words in her hair, and she nodded in response. They sat in silence for a while, until Lacie's heart had calmed and she started to feel normal again.

Lacie pulled herself away from Harry. She blinked repeatedly at him for a moment, and realised with a start that the last time that they had sat so close to each other was when she had inadvertently kissed him. Lacie felt her cheeks heat up a little, but Harry seemed nonplussed as ever, with concern still etched on his face. He smiled, and the warmth of it extended across his face, and reached his green eyes behind his circular glasses. He patted her on the head, and stood up. He offered her a hand.

"Let's go, I bet Hermione is worried sick about you," Harry said as she took his head and allowed herself to be pulled up by him. "But just in case I'm wrong, please don't made me call you Princess Malfoy or something."

Lacie remembered the bet that Hermione had lost and laughed.

"So long as I do not have to refer to you as Lord Potter," she replied jokingly.

* * *

 _A/N: Updates shall be every Thursday again, provided that I keep writing - or every week at least._

 _Happy reading,_

 _CSxo._


	8. Interlude I

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Interlude I**

* * *

Severus,

What do you mean Draco's arm is still injured? I did not make you the guardian of my children so that they would continue to suffer months after the initial accident! I thought you were doing everything to ensure the speedy recovery of my son! If he so much experiences the loss of a single grade as a result of your ineptitude, I will personally write for your dismissal. I do not care that I do not have as many Ministry contacts as Lucius does, but I will do it. I still carry an iota of influence in the Board of Governors.

I also hope that you have taught him how to conjure words upon parchment so he can do his homework. I do not have to remind you that Draco has injured his writing hand, and I do not wish to send you further Howlers regarding his inability to write. Again, I will directly see to your dismissal if I find that you are being a bumbling idiot. I will not tolerate mediocrity from a person like you, Severus.

Narcissa.

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Narcissa,

These daily Howlers are getting ridiculous, why must you scream and yell when writing is perfectly sufficient? I am a Professor, and a Head of House to boot, and because of you there are rumours spreading that I have a secret scorned lover. Are you so bored in your estrangement that you have to resort to these measures? Do you think I spend my days enjoying watching your son suffer? Of course, I taught him the handwriting charm, and he should readily use it more often as for once I can read his homework.

Do not even contemplate writing me a Howler for criticising your son's handwriting; I will have your owl banned from Hogwarts grounds if you try.

That being said, how are you coping without Lucius? He wrote to me after the attack detailing in red ink about my ineptitude as a godfather and Professor and were he still on the Board of Governors, I would be dismissed alongside Professor Hagrid. He also mentioned that he was personally spearheading the campaign for the execution of the animal in question and would like my co-operation. I have no doubt this is for your benefit.

I wish I could write that I look forward to future correspondence, but seeing as you have been screaming at me for the past week and a half, I would appreciate the peace and quiet.

Severus.

x-x-x-x-x

Severus,

I relent. The Howlers take a lot of effort. Do you know how much one must scream and how long I must compose a scream-worthy rant to make it suitable for sending? Do not take Howler-sending lightly.

I know that Lucius is planning something greater than merely winning a Wizengamot case. He always has been a strategist and he knows that if he does not do something to cement his standing in the Wizarding community, the Malfoy name will mean nothing this time next year. I can almost anticipate his next steps. Before you help him, I would read between the lines before doing so.

If any more accidents occur to any of my children, Hermione included, you will write to Dumbledore resigning from your post.

Narcissa.

PS. My son's handwriting is perfect. If you ever dare mock it again, it will be the last thing you do.

x-x-x-x-x

 _So, I suppose that you and your family buy into that_ Sacred Twenty-Eight _nonsense – HG._

 **Yes. – DM.**

 _But not all people 'act properly' as you say. The Weasleys are on this list but they don't talk to people with an upturned lip and spout pureblood ideology._

 **The Weasleys are crudely known as 'blood traitors', and do not share the same beliefs as my family do.**

 _Of course, how could I not know that there were ranks within the last twenty-eight pureblood families of Wizarding Britain and Ireland? I suppose it does go with the territory._

 **The figure is most likely twenty or so, the last Wizarding War either ended bloodlines or imprisoned them.**

 _If pureblood families are in decline, surely remaining pureblood families cannot expect to continue marrying each other? Surely you would run out or marry cousins, and the latter isn't the best option. You said so over the summer, selective partnerships drove the Black family insane._

 **Before you criticise my family for selective partnerships, you should research the Weasleys. They may be blood traitors but they are not saints. Before Mrs Weasley was a Weasley she was a Prewett. The Weasleys have links to the Black and Yaxley families, do you notice something familiar about those names?**

 _...They're all Sacred Twenty-Eight families. I get your point, Draco. You're saying that wizards want to only marry proper wizards._

 **Not overtly, but the principle underlies their declarations of tolerance. The question, Granger, is what do you find worse: ignorance or hypocrisy?**

 _The Weasleys_ _are anything but_ _hypocritical. Maybe they just fell in love, regardless of blood status. Do you really believe that you will never marry for love?_

 **Enough about me. What about you?**

 _Me? I'm fine._

 **No, as in what are the marriage customs in the Muggle world?**

 _I'll try and not take that as an insult. I suppose arranged marriages do exist still in the Muggle world, but it's rare. I think its normal to marry for love, Wizarding or Muggle._

 **People can learn to love status and stature.**

 _You're so cynical, but I suppose that is what makes us Muggles so deplorable. So what happens if your father wins the trial, and the status of the Malfoy name is magically restored?_

 **Well, I would have to act in the appropriate manner expected of the Heir of a family of my stature.**

 _Would you be happy with that?_

 **I would not have a choice.**

 _Well, I think we should help Hagrid in some way, but I think there will be so much to read up on…_

 **Is the bookworm really asking me for reading help? I thought reading assignments were not part of the deal, Granger. Also, the notion that I would consider helping you is so very Gryffindor.**

 _Well, think about it. The more we have, the better chance that Hagrid will win the trial. Helping me in private for your personal gain which results in your father losing the trial and your so-very-important family name to not be restored is quite Slytherin, Malfoy._

 **If you were not so Muggleborn, I might just make a Slytherin of you yet.**

 **PS. It is Lord Malfoy, Granger.**

 _So, you'll help me to research cases so Hagrid doesn't get sacked?_

 **No. Dumbledore will probably be fighting tooth and nail for his half-wit Professor, and what will most likely happen is that an argument will be made that it was an accident that comes with the job. After that, my father will go for the animal and the more research we can get now that will help save the Hippogriff, the more chance we will win.**

 _Hagrid is not a half-wit! You provoked the Hippogriff, so I would say you were the half-wit here!_

 **Semantics, Granger.**

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Lacie,

How are you settling at Hogwarts? I had a concerning letter about your experiences with Dementors and a Boggart, and was wondering how you are faring? I know we had you Boggart trained when you were young, so when Professor McGonagall wrote to me, I was surprised. Is there something the matter? You know you can write me about anything, I hate to be so far away and unable to do a thing for you.

I hear that Harry Potter is helping you out. Now, I do not mean to sound prudent but I would keep contact with Mr Potter at a minimum. I understand that he is a close friend, but with what happened last year, I do not want you in any more trouble. In fact, I wholeheartedly suggest that you eschew Mr Potter's company in Hogsmeade. Just trust me, he is not a boy that you want to be near if you want to remain safe.

On another note, how are your piano lessons with Cedric going? I hear on the Hogwarts grapevine that he is rather handsome. Is he? I have never met him, personally. I also hear that the first Hogsmeade weekend is coming up, perhaps you could ask Cedric for the morning off and he could show you around the village? I remember the first time that I went to Hogsmeade, and it makes all the difference to have someone who knows the village to show you around rather than stumbling around everywhere and get lost. In fact, Cedric would be the perfect person to show you around the village, seeing as he is older and more experienced.

All my love,

Mother.

x-x-x-x-x

 **Sirius Black Sighted!**

 _Notorious serial killer and fervent follower of You-Know-Who has been sighted in Northern Scotland for the second time. Since his elaborate escape from Dufftown, a small parish, the Ministry have been redoubling efforts to track Black down. An elderly man called the Crime Watchers Hotline, but again, as Ministry officials arrived, the killer was nowhere to be seen. It is unclear what Black's intentions are, but as he moves closer to Hogsmeade, civilians are urged not to confront him. If you see Black, please do not hesitate to contact the Auror office. Again, the public are reminded that Black is an extremely dangerous individual who must not be confronted._

x-x-x-x-x

Z,

Is it true? Is Black headed towards the castle to seek revenge for what happened all of those years ago?

N.

x-x-x-x-x

N,

I do not know Sirius' intentions, but it would seem so. The children, so long as they remain respectful of the Dementors and do not leave Hogwarts Grounds without a Professor, shall be safe.

Z.

x-x-x-x-x

 **I do not understand it. Can you explain it to me again? – DM.**

 _It's not that hard. Muggles use electricity as a form of energy to power up many things. Think of it like how we use magic to animate things. - HG_

 **But why do they need it?**

 _Without it, Muggles would not be able to power lights, or appliances like washing machines, toasters or computers. They use it for almost everything._

 **Toasters?**

 _Muggle invention, it is used to toast bread. There was one in the kitchen in the villa, didn't you ever use it?_

 **No, Sandrine always prepared the food. I see, so Muggles have developed a world outside of using magic, because they are unable to utilise it. Electricity is essentially magic that Muggles make?**

 _You could say that, although we have to have power stations to generate the electricity and then we have to distribute it to towns and cities so it is available for everyone._

 **This is hurting my head. Between Shakespeare recitals and Muggle inventions, I feel like Professor Burbage is going to kill me.**

 _She is going to kill you because you think you're too good for the class. Every time she calls on you for a question you answer that you 'do not care' or some other flippant comment._

 **But I do not care for the class. 'Mister Malfoy, do you think it significant that Iago slips between speaking prose and poetry depending on who he is speaking to?' Probably, Professor Burbage, but I do not care why he does it.**

 _Yes, you made it very clear to Professor Burbage during the last Muggle Studies class that you had no interest in medieval tragedies, whether or not they are part of the curriculum. I suppose that's why she set us the extensive essay on 'Class division in_ Othello _' to be completed by January. Oh, when she made you read aloud in class, I thought Lacie would split her sides._

 **Yes, I remember. I am eagerly counting down the days where I can drop the subject.**

 _Oh, shush. You love it really._


	9. Wish Aught Done Undone In The Past

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: Wish Aught Done Undone In The Past**

* * *

Marriage on earth seems such a counterfeit,  
Mere imitation of the inimitable:  
In heaven we have the real and true and sure.

Robert Browning from _The Real and True and Sure._

* * *

"Potter!"

The boy turned around to face Draco, and when Potter realised who had called him, he scowled. He went to turn around and continue walking down the corridor. Using his uninjured arm, he grabbed Potter by the robes when he caught up to him. Potter struggled against him as Draco forcefully dragged him to an empty corridor. Draco had waited until Potter was alone, which did not happen frequently, to approach him. The last thing Draco needed were witnesses of what he was about to do, especially that no-good ginger half-wit. Draco let him go, and the boy tried to straighten his robes as he glared at Draco with his piercing emerald eyes.

"I sincerely hope you're not about to tell me that you fancy me," Potter said shortly. Draco's jaw clenched almost automatically in response to his tone.

"As much as your eyes are as green as a freshly pickled toad, no, I am not about to confess any adulation," Draco retorted. Potter's glare deepened, and Draco knew then that even the Wonder-Brat-Who-Lived still could not live down the singing Valentine from earlier this year.

"What do you want, then?"

"I just want to thank you for being there for my sister," Draco said as reluctantly as he could. It was no secret that Lacie's Boggart had been the Heir of Slytherin and that Potter had chased her down like a valiant knight to comfort her. Even though several weeks had passed, girls still fluttered their eyelids at the bespectacled boy, wondering if he would ever come to their rescue too. Potter's mouth gormlessly fell open as he tried to process what Draco had said to him. Thankfully, he snapped it shut before he could drool on his robes.

"Well," Potter started as he ran his hand through his hair. He was probably feeling as uncomfortable as Draco was feeling at the present moment. "Lacie is my friend and she was upset, so… it's like what you would do for Parkinson, I guess."

"No, it is not," Draco admitted.

"Really?"

Draco ignored his question. He did not have to explain himself, especially to the likes of Potter. He held up his right arm to silence the boy before saying, "Potter, I know you have no reason to trust me -…"

"You don't say."

Draco glowered at the interruption before continuing, "Flint wants me to extend my arm injury as a ploy to get out of a match that could have unfavourable conditions."

"How does that concern me?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, silently wondering how Potter had managed to survive two life-threatening incidents without actually dying. He sighed, "It concerns you because Gryffindor might have to play Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin in November if we decide the odds would be against us."

"Why are you telling me this?" Potter asked with trepidation, and Draco could see distrust in his eyes.

"Maybe because you have helped my sister out several times, and I do not like to owe people favours in the long run."

"I told you, I do it because I'm her friend, and not because I want favours from anyone, especially from you."

 _So noble, as usual_ , Draco thought snidely. "Just be grateful for the information, and that I could potentially get kicked off the Slytherin team for blabbing."

The boy rolled his eyes, "Surely _Daddy_ would be able to buy you in again, just like last year."

Draco did not justify it with a remark, or a scathing comeback about how some people's fathers were able to buy their son onto their team instead of being dead. However, he did not want to be hexed, especially as his wand arm was currently indisposed. Instead he shrugged.

"Just keep your mouth shut, and watch out for Diggory. He may seem soft but he has got a keen eye and excellent self-awareness."

Draco walked away as people started spilling into the corridor. He did not particularly want Potter to fall over his robes to thank Draco profusely for giving him the Hufflepuff game on a silver platter in front of a crowd. As he rounded the corner to head towards his Charms class, he was stopped by two Slytherin Prefects with scowls. The girl glanced at the boy and the boy nodded before walking off in the direction that Draco was supposed to be heading.

"Malfoy, Professor Snape would like to see you in his office."

 _Was he caught so soon?_ It was no secret in Slytherin that their Professor Snape seemed to be intuitive to house affairs. Draco knew first-hand of his godfather's capabilities to see the truth in any matter, and he could still remember the hour long lecture about covering up for Pansy the previous year.

"Professor Snape can wait until lunchtime, as I have a Charms class to attend."

The Prefect rolled her eyes, "Xavier is taking care of that."

Draco barely knew the newly-appointed Prefect, Maida Emory, but she always seemed to perpetuate the stereotype that Slytherin Prefects had a mean look about them. Her counterpart, Xavier Rottingson was barely any better and Draco wondered if his Head of House chose Prefects on how intimidating they looked.

She pushed at him, and if Draco were in better social standing or mood, he would have reminded the girl to get her filthy hands off him. He stalked off to Professor Snape's office with the Prefect trailing after him, as if Draco would artfully dodge her to attend Charms, or there were Slytherin house points on the line. Draco snorted. _When have there ever been Slytherin house points on the line when it is Professor Snape?_

Draco wore his best sulky expression as he fell through the door of the Potions Master's office. His godfather, however, did not fall for the petulant act and merely glanced at him before returning to his stack of parchment. He thanked the Prefect for retrieving Draco and dismissed her. Draco flopped into the armchair opposite the Professor.

"So?"

The Professor did not look at him. His hook nose was too busy touching whatever riveting material was on his desk. Draco watched him as he finished, and with red ink he marked it with a neat seven. "I believe the appropriate greeting is: 'Good morning, Professor Snape'. I would not want your mother to think that you have suddenly lost your manners along with your common sense."

"I do have common sense!"

"If you did have common sense, you would not have provoked a Hippogriff."

Draco pouted. He had countered the Professor's argument many times, the man remained resolute. Draco was in the wrong, and had provoked the Hippogriff. There was nothing Draco could do to change his godfather's mind. At least these were his private musings, in the Potions classroom, he was still adamant that Hermione help him brew Draco's potions.

Draco did not speak as Snape marked the homework, and there was a soft knock at the door. Snape barely looked up as he invited the person in, and Draco continued sulking at the door as it opened. His mother glided into the office, bringing rare sunlight into the gloomy place. She wrapped her arms around Draco, and was careful not to crush his arm.

"Does it hurt?"

"Mildly."

At the response, Mother quirked her eyebrow before shooting a dark look across the desk at Snape.

"Mildly? Severus, it has been _weeks_ , why does my son's arm still hurt, even _mildly_?"

The man did not look up to answer, "Your son is unwilling to allow his wounds to heal, am I supposed to chain him to his bed and force him to constantly rub salve on his arm?"

"We will be having words about your impertinence, Severus," Mother warned, and Draco enjoyed at how Professor Snape squirmed a little in his seat. It seemed that the one person that seemed to frighten him was his mother. Draco snickered.

"If it is absolutely necessary but I do have classes to teach, Narcissa. Also is this how you greet an old friend? My, my, like mother like son."

Draco's mother gave Professor Snape a glare before her gaze softened and walking around his desk to embrace him. It was an awkward gesture as the Professor did not move to allow her to do so easily, so she perched over him. The door opened loudly and Draco's expression went from amusement to utter surprise. He stood up immediately, and out of the corner of his eye, his mother stiffened. Draco frowned in confusion, as the door revealed his Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.

"Is this a bad time?" he asked quietly, holding the handle to the wooden door. "Shall I come back later?"

"No, I'll retrieve the…" the Potions Master started to say before glancing briefly at Draco, his thin lips twisted into a smirk as he continued, " _thing_ for you, Lupin."

"Of course," Professor Lupin smiled whilst scratching his thinning hair. He nodded at Draco's mother as Professor Snape vanished through a door.

"Lupin," his mother said coldly to his Defence professor. She twisted her silver necklace around her index finger almost purposefully.

 _Why is mother so defensive?_

Professor Snape seemed to take his time finding whatever it was Professor Lupin had requested, and the Professor in question stared at his mother's twirling finger with unease.

"Black."

" _Lady Malfoy_ , do you have a severe lack of manners alongside with that terrible memory loss of yours?"

"I apologise, Lady Malfoy."

Draco bit back his snicker at the admonishment. It seemed that his mother seemed to frighten most men, if she wanted to. The professor, however, looked resigned.

"Also, I specifically remember warning you never to approach me again."

"Lady Malfoy, that was over a decade ago."

"Not long enough."

Draco wondered what the Professor had done to invoke such a reaction from his normally composed mother. Had she heard about Lacie's incident with the Boggart? He debated questioning her, but he did not want to be caught in the crossfire either. Curiosity got the better of Draco as he asked his mother, "Do you two know each other?"

His mother continued to glower at Professor Lupin for a moment before turning towards her son, and her expression softened as she spoke to him, "Your professor was one of my classmates at Hogwarts, and he ruined a family heirloom that was bequeathed to me."

Draco furrowed his brows further as he got more confused. _Why would Mother care so much about a family trinket?_ If it was at all possible, Professor Lupin paled at her comment and a smug look appeared on his mother's face. Snape reappeared with a flask and passed it to Professor Lupin wordlessly. The professor quickly bid a rushed goodbye before hurrying out of the office. Draco turned back to his mother, who had a frosty expression on her face again. Her lips were pursed as she looked as if she wanted an explanation from Professor Snape.

"Play nice, Narcissa," the professor said with a smirk.

"Do not patronise me," his mother said as she folded her arms. Through a clenched jaw she demanded. "Where is Dumbledore's office?"

The Potions Master snickered before he mumbled somewhere on the third floor. He also said something in a quiet whisper, presumably the password to gain entry into the office. Draco watched as his mother glided across the office towards Draco and leant up to kiss him gently on the cheek. She gave him a glowing smile.

"It was a pleasure," she said, and then her face hardened as she spoke to Snape, "His arm better be fully healed the next time I write, Severus, or I shall send something far worse than a flurry of Howlers."

"I await your correspondence eagerly," the professor said without looking at her, as he had already returned to his stack of homework and was already scribbling over the parchment in red ink.

"Are you not going to see Lacie?" Draco asked as his mother made her way to leave.

"I have a Headmaster to interrogate about student wellbeing, and I am sure Lacerta can manage going without," his mother said through gritted teeth before storming out of the office. Draco stared after her, and was not too sure that the events of the past half an hour or so had been what he had been expecting when he had woken up that morning. He looked over at the professor, who was probably scribbling an admonishment on someone's dismal homework to alleviate his foul mood. Draco did not envy the student. Draco watched as he did so, dipping his quill into the inkwell several times to write an essay, and after he was finished his mouth twisted into a smirk as he appraised his handiwork.

 _I wonder why people dislike him,_ Draco thought to himself sarcastically. He was not too sure that the Professor knew that he was still in the room.

Draco cleared his throat. Professor Snape looked up and looked remotely confused at him.

"Have you not left yet?"

"Was I supposed to?"

"I thought you had a class to attend, or something…"

Draco raised an eyebrow, "You wrote a note to Professor Flitwick and authorised my absence."

"Well," the Professor said with a small glint in his eye, "Take this opportunity to take some free time, or do you wish to have a heart-to-heart with your beloved godfather?"

Draco was out of that office quicker than he thought his legs would go. He had at least half an hour before his Muggle Studies lesson, and free time was much appreciated. He needed all the preparation he could get as this was a Shakespeare lesson, and Draco was sure that Professor Burbage would choose him to recite Iago's lines again.

 _I should have said that Muggle Studies was to blame for my sustained arm injury, Mother would have forced me to drop the subject._

Draco groaned. He would have to save that excuse for later.

x-x-x-x-x

Narcissa stormed up towards the corridor towards the Headmaster's office. She was familiar with the route that Severus had reluctantly given her, and it was as if she was a student again and wandering the castle as she pleased. She shot looks of irritation at the tall, gossiping teenagers that Narcissa was sure that subscribed to the wretched _Witch Weekly._ They scarpered at her glares and she carried on.

"Loganberry laces," Narcissa hissed at the gargoyle that protected Dumbledore's office. As Narcissa stomped her way up the stone staircase she could almost feel the anger bubble in her once again.

" _Severus!"_

" _Leave me alone, Narcissa!" Her long-haired friend wandered deeper into the tunnel, desperate to find something at the end of it that indicated that the miscreants that constantly tortured him were up to something nefarious. Narcissa knew that the self-titled Marauders were troublemakers, but Severus now was going too far. How he and Narcissa had not gotten themselves killed in the process of climbing into the tunnel under the Whomping Willow she would never know. It was as if someone had given Severus information to lure him down to this tunnel, for whatever reason Narcissa did not understand._

" _I do not know what you expect to find here but…"_

" _Your half-wit, idiotic fool of a cousin and his pathetic friends come down here every month, and I think I know why…"_

" _You are being ridiculous, Severus!"_

" _If I am ridiculous, then go back!"_

 _Narcissa was not abandoning her friend. She may not be a reckless but loyal Gryffindor like her senseless cousin, but she knew better than to leave her friend behind, seeing as he was the only one who knew how to freeze the Whomping Willow. Severus stomped as he went, and slowly the tunnel twisted and seemed to be going upwards. A small light was in front of them, and they walked closer to it. Severus was approaching the opening of the passage gingerly, and from glimpses that Narcissa could see past him, she started to know why._

" _Mother of Circe," she whispered, her legs shaking so violently she was about to fall over. Severus started creeping backwards, slowly, as if any swift movement was going to change anything._

 _It was too late, the wolf had a sense of smell far greater than that of any other animal, and it had already turned its attention to the two teenagers. Severus yelped as the werewolf moved towards them but Narcissa had another idea, she ripped her necklace off her neck and threw it at the beast. It yelped as the silver hit it in the chest and seared into its fur and skin. The silver pendant stuck to its burning flesh as it reared backwards, but Narcissa had no time to consider if it would retreat back into the dirty shack, because she ran for her life, pulling Severus in tow. As she ran, she could hear devastating howls from the other end alongside her violently beating heart. She did not know when the sleeve of Severus' robe slipped from her fingers as she ran. Her sides ached in her exertion but her fear overwhelmed her. She ran until the smell of earth became overwhelming and she knew she had to be back near the trunk of the Whomping Willow. She did not even care if Severus was behind her anymore as she hoisted herself up through the hole in the ground. She did not care if the tree was animated again and would throw her into the air. She was just relieved to back on the Hogwarts Grounds. She was also glad that the Whomping Willow was still frozen. She saw a figure running towards the tree, just as Severus crawled out of the hole._

" _You!" Narcissa screamed, pointing at the figure running towards them, seeing him come into view. "I always knew you hated Severus, but this is low even for you, James Potter."_

 _The bespectacled boy ran a hand through his perpetually unruly hair as he struggled to speak, "Look, Narcissa – can I call you Narcissa? No? Okay, well, Black, this wasn't me, I swear."_

" _Making Severus werewolf bait sounds exactly like you, Potter, after all the despicable shit you have put him through over all the years."_

" _Language Cissy, what would dear Aunt Druella say if she could hear you now?" another voice lingered behind them._

" _I do not give a flying Quaffle what my fucking mother would say!" Narcissa said rounding onto her cousin, the foolhardy prat that she was_ somehow, somehow _related to. The grin was wiped off his smug face as Narcissa's hand collided with it. The force of the slap made Sirius take a step back._

" _I almost fucking died because of the shit you pulled on Severus tonight. This ends now, every backhanded hex, every show of manliness in front of Lily Evans –_ do not even think I do not know who this is about – _every little snide comment about each other, it stops here. You four 'Marauders' are supposed to be loyal, prideful Gryffindors but this display of pure idiocy was no better than the acts of the Slytherins you despise."_

 _Silence fell upon them, and Narcissa thought she imagined a howl concur with her in the distance. The three boys in front of her hung their heads, although she was sure Sirius was displaying mock shame. She rounded onto Severus._

" _Was that Lupin?"_

" _Yes."_

" _You knew Lupin was a werewolf?"_

" _I had a hunch…"_

 _Narcissa tried not to strangle her friend, he had already suffered enough._ He could have told her. _She started to walk away before saying, "You owe me a new necklace, my dear cousin will inform you to what the coat of arms of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black looks like."_

" _I am not -…"_

" _You also owe me a life debt, Severus, do not make me regret saving your bony arse."_

Narcissa did not bother with knocking on the heavy wooden door, and was glad to see that the Headmaster was sitting at his desk with no other company. The man looked up and glanced at her through his half-moon glasses. His expression warmed as he stood up for her.

"Narcissa - …"

"Cut the pleasantries, Albus, are you absolutely insane? You hired a-a… a _werewolf_?"

The last word in her sentence came out no more than a stage whisper. The man raised his arm towards the chair that was on the other side of his desk. Narcissa took it and sat down as gracefully as she could, and the Headmaster followed suit, perching himself at the edge of his large chair.

"Now, Narcissa, it is not like you to judge people."

"You know my stock and trade as a Malfoy, it is not like you to say such asinine things, Albus."

"Yes," the Headmaster said with a small smile, "Remus is more than a capable teacher, and you know if someone is willing to take on the position that I am not one to discriminate."

"You turned the Dark Lord down."

"Yes, well, Tom was quite the dangerous man."

"Lupin _is_ dangerous."

"At full moon, and Severus is more than capable of brewing the Wolfsbane Potion…"

"Oh, _perfect_ , have Severus brew one of his childhood tormentors a potion to keep the job that Severus has coveted for so long," Narcissa snorted in exasperation. "I am surprised Severus did not tell you to shove your wand -…"

"Narcissa," the Headmaster warned quietly, but with enough power to silence the woman as she ranted. Narcissa pursed her lip at the man. "Remus did not torment Severus, after all, and that is all in the past."

"Lupin stood by and watched as it all happened, and when you made him a Prefect in a pathetic attempt for him to try and control his vicious friends, he still watched it happen. He and that Pettigrew boy, Merlin rest his soul, were just as bad," Narcissa spat, before standing up and turning away from the Headmaster. The only salvation in her thoughts was that Severus managed to hex them back just as badly, and sometimes even worse in retaliation, but she could not ignore how lonely Severus was. He was close friends with a Muggleborn, something the rest of his house ostracised him for, and had to put up with the boy who would end up marrying her.

 _I wonder if that is why I am so accepting of Lacie's friendship with Hermione Granger to prevent her becoming like Severus in twenty years' time._

"You know why I cannot give Severus the Defence Against the Dark Arts professorship yet, and he does too."

Narcissa turned back to the Headmaster, still standing. "I am aware."

"Now, to the matter of Lucius Malfoy," the Headmaster looking at her with his cerulean eyes, "Are you prepared to return to him at the correct moment?"

Narcissa scoffed, "Why do you make it sound as if this is merely a chessboard and I am merely a pawn in your drawn-out game?"

"You do _love_ Lucius, do you not?"

A small flush crept up Narcissa's normally pale neck and stained her cheeks, she could not look at the Headmaster, so instead she chose to stare at the floor. She played with her fingers as she fidgeted, not wanting to give Professor Dumbledore an answer until the knots in her stomach had ceased playing up.

Of course she loved her husband, she had harboured a crush the first time she had ever met him at nine years of age. He had been in Andromeda's year at Hogwarts, and had been promised to Andromeda for years, so Narcissa had hidden her unrequited love for him. When Andromeda ran off with that Tonks boy and ruptured the Black family apart, Narcissa had been more than willing to take her sister's place and marry Lucius, and had been delighted to find that he loved her dearly too. It had taken more than personal conviction to walk away, and taken more than sealing up her emotions to stay away.

 _It is more than difficult to conceal over twenty years of love, and play the nonchalant estranged wife._

"Yes, I do."

"Then it is settled."

"I must have a funny way of showing it, must I not, Albus? I claim to love a man for more than half of my life, and so quick am I to betray him," Narcissa laughed bitterly, "I am a poor excuse of a wife."

The Headmaster did not say anything to ease her thoughts, or respond to her musings. He merely regarded her with the same expression as he did when she questioned his actions for the past ten years. _Everyone has their role to play, Narcissa_. She could not afford to act like a child, not when she had put ten years into so carefully masking herself to be the docile wife who negotiated around her husband in her desperation not to be caught in her deception. She had had to endure years and years of Severus breaking into her mind, just so she could act in her capacity as the wife of one of the Dark Lord's most trusted men as well as one of Albus' most trusted allies.

She took a deep breath. When she was caught in her deceit, it would not matter who tormented who when they were young.

"My family may not have clout with the Governors of this school, but the moment that _man_ puts my children in danger, I will personally demand for his dismissal."

"Spoken like a true matriarch of the Malfoy family," Albus said quietly, before sending her on her way.

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie sighed as she twirled her spaghetti around her fork. She sat with her head resting on her other hand and she sighed again, this time more dramatically. Hermione was reading aloud a piece of text regarding that day's Arithmancy lesson but stopped as she took stock of Lacie's pensive expression.

"Penny?"

"This Saturday is the first trip to Hogsmeade," Lacie said with yet another sigh. She continued to twirl her food and look listlessly at her dinner. Hermione raised her eyebrow at her.

"Don't remind me," Harry muttered, breaking Lacie out of her thoughts, "At least you've got a signed permission slip."

Lacie sighed again, "I have a piano lesson on Saturday morning with Cedric but I would much rather be exploring Hogsmeade than learning another waltz."

"Cedric?" Harry's attention had piqued, "As in Cedric Diggory?"

"What of it?"

Harry shrugged at her, before muttered, "Nothing. He's just the Hufflepuff Seeker and Captain."

"Wood has you doing homework on opposing Quidditch teams now?" Hermione asked with curiosity, but when Harry did not answer her question she turned towards Lacie, "Surely you can ask for the day off?"

"Cedric is surprisingly stubborn," Lacie said. "Do you know he has me practising the same piece of music over and over again until he deems it perfect?" Lacie turned to look at Harry, "You have that stubbornness to look forward to when Gryffindor play Hufflepuff in the spring."

Harry frowned at her for a moment before looking away, deep in his own thoughts.

"Surely you could ask," Ron wondered aloud before Lacie could ask Harry what he was thinking. "Maybe you could swish your hair at him and get your own way, like you usually do."

Lacie glared at the ginger boy, and watched as he finished his dinner. She dropped her fork and waited for him to catch her eye again before twisting her hair in between her fingers.

"Would you run along and leave me be?" Lacie said with a dazzling smile and her sweetest tone. Ron stuck his fork pigheadedly into a chocolate log and took the whole thing onto his plate. Lacie grimaced at him.

 _He really is a pig._

"At least when you finish your piano lesson, you'll have Harry to mope around with," Hermione said, and then she blushed, realising what she had said.

Lacie did not know what to make of her mother's letter, which had arrived earlier in the week but she had immediately shown it to Hermione. Her friend's eyebrows had furrowed as she read it, before wondering out loud why Lacie's mother would want her to stay away from Harry and associate further with Cedric Diggory.

At that moment, Harry had arrived with Ron in tow and had heard everything. As he sat down and coolly poured himself some cereal, before stating that it must be because there was a serial killer after him, and her mother was concerned that if Harry was gallivanting around Hogsmeade he would attract another person who would attack Lacie. Of course, Lacie apologised immediately for her mother's attitude despite it doing little to relieve Harry's pensive expression for the rest of the day.

Ever since that moment after that first disastrous Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, Lacie had made it a personal mission to not be alone with Harry – not because of her mother's instructions, but because she was feeling confused. Hermione had noticed, of course, and bottled it down to Lacie overanalysing things. Harry had saved her in the Chamber of Secrets, and then he had chased her down to make her feel better, of course she would see him in a different light. In reality, Hermione explained quite bluntly, Harry was looking out for a friend just like Hermione was.

 _The real question is,_ Hermione had asked in their empty dormitory, _are you seeing it as something more? Do you fancy Harry?_

Lacie had pondered the question for a moment before screwing up her face and retorting that she felt absolutely nothing aside from platonic feelings for Harry, but she did not want to spend time with him until she could ascertain that was a proper conclusion. Hermione rolled her eyes, and had done little to accommodate Lacie. It seemed that Hermione's question had been answered, and her best friend was convinced that Lacie had a crush on their dark-haired friend. That did not mean that Hermione was willing to completely drop Lacie in it.

"Just go ask Cedric, you work hard enough as it is," Hermione said with a comforting voice. "What is one weekend off?"

Ron dropped his fork at Hermione's words, and even Lacie was mildly surprised. Hermione was one of the most hard-working people that she had ever met, and never seemed to take a second off working. Even as she sat eating her dinner, Hermione's mind was still on their Arithmancy lesson. Lacie scanned the Great Hall, and saw that Cedric was not sitting on the Hufflepuff table. She bit the inside of her cheek. Hermione was right though, what was one weekend off? It would not hurt to seek out the Hufflepuff and _ask_ him for the morning off. She _did_ want to go to Hogsmeade, and preferably did not want to spend the rest of the day moping in the library with Harry as they did homework for subjects that did not overlap. As luck would have it, she watched as Cedric entered the Great Hall with some other Hufflepuff fifth-years.

"I am going to do it," Lacie said, standing up with confidence.

"Good luck," Hermione smiled at her, before scooping herself some jelly for dessert and explaining to Ron the difference of using numbers for divination as opposed to tea leaves, and its accuracy.

Lacie rolled her eyes and made her way towards the Hufflepuff table, which was conveniently next to the Gryffindor one. She walked towards where Cedric was busy laughing at something that his friend had said. Lacie stopped behind him, suddenly unsure of what to say or do. She could, as a last resort, carry on walking and pretend that she had never intended to speak to Cedric but it was now noticeable that she was hovering.

 _Use that proverbial Gryffindor courage you have and speak to him!_

The girl sat opposite to Cedric looked up and rolled her eyes, "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"I am not here for you, Hutton. Cedric?"

The boy in front of her turned around, and when he saw her, his mouth formed a bright smile before saying, "Oh hi, Lacie."

"Can we talk in private?" Lacie asked, resisting tapping her left foot with impatience. She only hoped that he would come with her quickly before people could start staring. Cedric, on the other hand, had other ideas. He went back to his dinner and started piling some spaghetti onto his plate. Lacie just stood there, watching him as he did so, and Lacie could see from the corner of her eyes that people had definitely started to stare.

"Don't worry about this lot, Hufflepuffs aren't known for gossip mongering. Come and sit down, people are staring," Cedric said, as he twirled spaghetti on his fork. The boy to the left of Cedric moved away, making a space for Lacie next to him. Lacie sat next to Cedric, who ate his food carefully. The Hufflepuff boy could spend more time teaching Ron Weasley how to eat politely and less time torturing Lacie with arpeggios. Cedric looked at her questioningly, prompting her to speak. Lacie's throat was suddenly dry, but she managed to choke something out.

"About Saturday…"

"…Don't tell me, you've got more important things to do? I don't want to hear it, we're going to be doing scales because as good as you are, your finger work could do with improvement," Cedric interrupted, before twirling his spaghetti around his fork.

"Yes, but…"

"I don't want to hear it."

"Cedric!"

"Fine," he relented with a sigh before encouraging her with a wave of his free hand, "Give me your excuse."

"This Saturday is the first trip to Hogsmeade, and as I am a third-year, I have not been to Hogsmeade before…" Lacie started to explain, her words tumbling out of her mouth as if she could not get them out fast enough, "So I was wondering if we could catch up the week after, scales and arpeggios and every other unpleasant exercise you have planned."

After she had finished, Cedric was still looking at her with a kind expression before putting half a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. He chewed on it carefully and swallowed before he spoke to her, "I see."

The calmness in his voice was slightly unnerving, as if merely asking him was causing him some form of irritation. She almost regretted asking, but she really wanted to visit Hogsmeade and spend a Saturday morning not cooped up in a classroom after her ballet lesson. She wanted to rap her fingers against the Hufflepuff table, but she also knew better than to fidget. She waited a moment before asking, "So?"

"Yeah, I suppose that's amenable," he said after a moment. Lacie grinned as she hopped up and away from the table.

"Brilliant, thanks Ced!"

She wanted to get away before he could change his mind and to tell Hermione the good news, as well as comment that she did not have to _swish her hair_ to get what she wanted. All she needed to do was explain her reasoning in a clear and proper manner, no coercion needed.

"Er… Lacie?" Lacie heard as she almost reached outside earshot, she turned to see Cedric looking at her, amongst curious glances. Cynthia Hutton had quite the sour look on her face. Lacie walked back towards Cedric, with a falling sensation in the pit of her stomach. She had clearly not ran away quick enough.

 _There was still time, she could still run away and pretend she had not heard him._

"Yes?"

"Did you say that you haven't been to Hogsmeade before?"

"Yes, I did."

"I could show you around, if you want?"

Lacie's mouth fell open, as did the mouths of Hufflepuffs who had heard what Cedric had offered. She searched his eyes for the smallest trace of dishonesty. When she did not see any, she had to ask.

"Is this a joke?"

One edge of Cedric's mouth raised as he gave her his dazzling crooked smile. He chuckled a little.

"No, just that my plans for Saturday morning just fell through, I was supposed to be meeting this girl but she had other plans."

"What a rascal! Who would dare organise other plans?" Lacie replied, trying to suppress a giggle. She cocked her head as she put her hand on her hip, as she grinned at him.

 _What is wrong with me?_

"So you see my conundrum."

"I do, but…"

"What's the worst that could happen?"

She bit her lip anxiously as she weighed up what could possibly be terrible about having Cedric show her around Hogsmeade. Her mother had practically suggested it in her letter, and there was nothing particularly harmful about going to Hogsmeade with Cedric. It was not as if Hermione would not also be there, and Ron could tag along, she supposed, that was if Ron did not want to go with Seamus, Dean and Neville instead.

Lacie beamed at him before saying, "Okay, would you mind if I brought some friends along too?"

"Of course not," Cedric smiled, "I'll see you Saturday morning in the Entrance Hall."

Lacie nodded as she turned around to walk back to her friends and she sat down with a smug look on her face.

"Success?" Hermione asked, pulling herself away from what seemed to be an angry confrontation with Lavender and Parvati. The other two Gryffindor girls seemed to look flustered before regrouping with Cheryl and hissing something under their breaths. Hermione sighed, before explaining that they had been arguing about the wishy-washiness of Divination, an opinion that had not sat well with Professor Trelawney's fledging most-dedicated fan club.

"I got Saturday morning off, Cedric said that he would show us around the village, too," Lacie explained.

Recovering from Hermione's rebuttal of her favourite subject, Lavender perked up.

"You're going to Hogsmeade with Cedric Diggory? Like a date?" she asked, and beside her, Parvati and Cheryl had started giggling.

"No," Lacie laughed, "I am going to Hogsmeade with Hermione and Ron, and Cedric said that he would show us around, seeing as he has been before."

"Do you mean to tell me," a scandalised look crossed Lavender's face, "That _Cedric Diggory_ asked you to go to Hogsmeade with him and you invited Hermione and Ron to go with you? Are you mad? He asked you on a date, not a group outing!"

"I was there, and he did no such thing," Lacie said, as she poured herself a goblet of pumpkin juice. It was to no avail, the three witches were back to muttering under their breaths, casting Lacie surreptitious looks every so often. Lacie thought about what Cedric had actually said as she sipped her drink. He had only asked if he could show her around Hogsmeade, and it did not seem to be phrased to be a date.

Lacie later discussed it with Hermione in the Common Room, not that her best friend was any help. She had never been asked on a date before either.

* * *

 _A/N: Apologies for the week-later-than-usual upload. Life, you know._

 _I do have a backstory for Narcissa but I won't go into much detail, but I do enjoy writing Snape/Narcissa interactions._

 _As ever, happy reading._

 _CSxo_


	10. Let Them Lie

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling, and Shakespeare**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine: Let Them Lie**

* * *

My whole life long I learned to love.  
This hour my utmost art I prove  
And speak my passion-heaven or hell?

Robert Browning from _One Way of Love_

* * *

"Where were we?"

Hermione raised her hand eagerly, and the Professor turned to her with a bright smile.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Act two, Scene one… at the line: ' _The Moor! I know his trumpet_.'"

Lacie, who was next to her, was listening in rapt attention and hastily flicked through her copy to the correct part of the book. Draco, on the other hand, snorted at Hermione and deliberately caught her gaze to roll his eyes at her. Professor Burbage strolled around the classroom with her copy of _Othello,_ and ignoring Draco, Hermione watched as the Professor turned to the page in question before scanning for a moment and looking up at the class.

"Mister Malfoy…"

"Let me guess," Draco drawled, "You want me to read the role of Iago? Why is it that I am always chosen to read aloud during these classes?"

"Mister Malfoy, whilst the homework you produce is acceptable, your in-class participation is appalling. Seeing as you refuse to answer questions, the only way for you to have an adequate amount of participation in this class is by selecting you to read aloud. Is that clear?"

Hermione snickered as Draco glowered at the professor.

"But as you object to the role of Iago, today you shall recite Othello's lines."

"Oh, how you spoil me," Draco muttered, just about loud enough for the class to hear. Lacie nudged Draco's bandaged arm and her brother flinched. His glower moved from their Muggle Studies professor to his twin. It was yet another Muggle Studies lesson where Draco did his best to antagonise their Professor or his sister. He disliked every aspect of Muggle Studies and seemed to dislike Professor Burbage down to her Muggle attire. Their Professor never wore robes whilst teaching, preferring unrestricted comfortable clothing and it seemed to offend Draco every lesson. Hermione didn't know why he cared so much, it wasn't as if her knee-length boots and lack of a pointy hat made her less of a professor.

"Mister Entwhistle, you shall read for Iago and Mister Boot, can you read the lines for Cassio? Mister Macmillan, would you like to read the part of Roderigo?"

The boys nodded fervently and Kevin Entwhistle leafed through his copy of the play so they could prepare for their parts. The professor strolled around the class before asking, "And who would like the role of Desdemona?"

Every girl earnestly put their hand up, even Lacie was on the edge of her seat to try and convince the professor for the role. Draco used his free hand to try and swat Lacie's out of the air. Lacie frowned at her brother.

"What?" Hermione heard her friend hiss.

"You cannot read the role of Desdemona; you are my _sister."_

"What difference does that make?"

"I am reading Othello's lines, and I would rather not profess my undying love towards my sister," Draco snapped.

Lacie sighed before lowering her hand as students in their class snickered. Hermione looked behind and saw girls contemplate what Draco had said before lowering their hands too. Hermione noted with a small glee that it seemed that Draco wasn't as desirable as he sometimes made out to be. Hermione also thought about what Draco said, as much as he was her _friend_ , the idea of him reciting lines of adoration in her direction was also rather undesirable. She, too, also lowered her hand but not before Professor Burbage had selected her to read the part of Desdemona. She groaned and this earned her a glare from Draco. Professor Burbage took her seat behind her large oak desk, before gesturing the five to stand at the front.

The Muggle Studies classroom was by far the more interesting classroom that Hogwarts had to offer. It was a cross between a theatre and a museum. The Professor's desk was next to a raised area where Professor Burbage would encourage her students to perform the lines of the play they were studying to recreate authenticity. However, authenticity was not always achieved as Draco resented being chosen to stand at the front of the classroom once a week to recite lines, and monotonously did so to the chagrin of their professor. The rest of the classroom had shelves full of muggle inventions and appliances that Professor Burbage would pull out for their other lessons to explain and discuss its history and uses. Hermione hated the show-and-tell classes as there wasn't much that the Professor could tell her about how and why Muggles used a lamp. Whilst it was interesting from a wizard's perspective ( _"But, Professor, if they have gas-lights and candles, why do they need lamps too?")_ , it was also incredibly mundane. Hermione always looked forward to studying Muggle literature in comparison to debating the merits of a bicycle. Even though Shakespeare was a Wizarding bard, his profound effect on Muggles was worth studying even with Draco butchering the lines he was given.

Hermione walked to the front of the classroom, and watched as Draco shuffled to the front, his copy of Othello propped in his uninjured hand and a sullen look on his face. When he reached the front of the class, Professor Burbage forced a smile before saying, "Mister Entwhistle, from the line that Miss Granger gave me."

Kevin looked at his book before saying, " _The Moor! I know his trumpet."_

"' _Tis truly so,"_ Terry responded.

" _Let's meet him and receive him,"_ Hermione recited. She carried on doing so, even as Draco sighed through his lines.

" _It gives me wonder great as my content…"_ Draco said before going red amongst the snickers in the class. He shot a glare at their classmates, which did little to sober them. Hermione felt her cheeks heat up as she scanned Draco's lines. He cleared his throat before saying, " _To see you here before me. O my soul's joy!"_

He carried on reading aloud the lines, and Hermione was blushing furiously as she followed him with, " _But that our loves and comforts should increase…"_

The entire Muggle Studies third-year class was chuckling as she spoke, and Draco returned the adulations with equal unenthusiastic fervour before pausing and looking over at Professor Burbage and saying, "I do not have to _kiss_ her do I?"

Hermione almost buried her head in her book as a girl near the back of the classroom cackled with delight. It was clear why they found it amusing. Mr 'You-will-be-next-Mudbloods' was not only forced to take the Muggle Studies class at the behest of his mother but also had to read aloud his love for the girl he had only months prior established that the world would be better without. Draco's reluctance to cooperate in general in these classes also added to the humour, as did Professor Burbage's exasperation.

"Would it provide you with any educational value to kiss Miss Granger?"

Draco didn't answer, and instead carried on reading the lines as quickly as he could. Kevin, on the other hand, seemed to relish Draco's discomfort and read aloud as dramatically and slowly as he could. When it was back to Draco, he spoke at breakneck speed, pausing for breath only when he desperately needed to. He stopped and glowered at the Professor before walking back to his desk.

"Mister Malfoy, where are you going?"

Draco waved his book insolently before saying, "It says _exeunt Othello_ , I am _exeunting,_ Professor _."_

He sat down and threw his book onto the table before slouching into his chair. Lacie scowled at her brother and prodded his arm with her copy of _Othello_ , and Draco straightened up. Seeing that Draco had left, and the line also indicated that the character of Desdemona was also to leave, Hermione glanced at her Muggle Studies professor and Terry before leaving the raised area. After the class had died down, Kevin and Ernie carried on reading to the class.

Lacie turned to Hermione as Kevin spoke, "I do not understand why he stays in this class, seeing as he clearly detests it."

"Whisper louder, Lacerta, I simply cannot hear you," Draco whispered curtly, leaning towards her.

Lacie looked over at Draco, "Oh, I meant for you to hear, you can simply just not turn up or bother, but do you come and make it unenjoyable for everyone else in your misery."

"I cannot fail this class, I have to maintain a decent average to stay on the Quidditch team, as well as placate Mother."

"Mother would not have forced you to take this class if you had not been so pig-headed and said what you had said about Hermione."

"You two, some people want to learn in this class," Hermione hissed, and they quietened but didn't stop glowering at each other. They stayed like that for the rest of the lesson, and doing anything to aggravate the other until Professor Burbage had had enough and dismissed them both early. Draco did not need telling twice, and waved his wand to pack his bag for him before rushing out of the door. Lacie protested, but the Professor simply packed her bag for her, and had charmed it to urge her out of the classroom. After the class quietened at the disruption, Hermione was finally able to concentrate on the lesson.

The peace didn't last long though, as Professor Burbage kept Hermione behind to inform her that she was to sit in between the Malfoy twins, as the Muggle Studies professor thought that it would be more conducive to Draco's enthusiasm for the class.

Hermione left the class feeling dejected, and reached for her neck. Her finger dipped under the collar of her blouse. The corridor was milling with people, but she soon found a quiet broom closet for hide in. She thought carefully about where she had been the previous hour before decided that it was safe to turn the hourglass back once. She felt her body move, as she recounted the past hour in flashes but in reverse. She watched herself move back into her seat in Muggle Studies and raise her arm again. She moved out of the classroom, and was in a corridor leading to the Muggle Studies classroom. She ducked into the crowd of people moving the opposite way, just as her past self walked to Muggle Studies with Lacie. She checked her watch, and hissed. She ran across Hogwarts, feeling her side ache as she strained and she flew up the stairs towards the Divination classroom.

Harry and Ron looked at her curiously as she sat down.

"Why are you so late?" Ron asked, as he poured her a cup of tea.

"Am I?" Hermione said, feigning ignorance. "I must have lost track of time."

As Trelawney lamented over Harry's oncoming demise, it provided perfect cover not to explain herself further to Ron. He would never know how accurate her statement had been. It hadn't even been two months yet, and she was starting to lose her mind over this time-turning business.

x-x-x-x-x

Draco was stuck in an intense staring competition across the Great Hall with Lacie. In the past, Draco would have been afraid to cross her and drove himself insane over anticipating what she may plan against him. However, they were at Hogwarts, and Draco knew that she would not dare so much lift a finger against him whilst they were in these walls. Also, Draco was not afraid of his sister anymore. He knew how to better his sister, if the occasion ever called for it.

He knew that this was fermenting since their disastrous clash in Muggle Studies yesterday. After being sent away from the class, Lacie had stalked him down several corridors, yelling that he was scuppering her chances of doing well in the class. He knew that she could not stand how he seemed to grasp Muggle inventions and ideas quicker than her and made it known to the few in the corridor that were lingering. If he hated the class, why did he not simply do just the bare minimum, why did he have to best her?

 _You have a Muggleborn friend,_ Draco had snapped, _maybe you should ask her how it works._

Of course, Lacie had been stubborn and had flounced away leaving Draco to walk towards his next class.

So when he sat down for breakfast the next morning, he had caught her glare from across the Great Hall, it was an action that Draco happily returned. They had been glaring at each other for ten minutes, and it seemed that people knew better than to distract the Malfoy twins from a brewing feud. That is, except for Theo. Theo nudged Draco on his uninjured arm several times before reaching over and punching him squarely on his bandaged one. Draco jumped up with a yelp as pain shot up his arm. They were still putting those disgusting potions on his arm, and although the injury had mostly healed by now, the potions had a nasty side effect of hurting more than usual.

Draco tore his gaze away from Lacie to narrow his eyes at Theo.

"What?"

"I heard the most delicious rumour last night," the other boy said through a toothy grin.

Draco sighed, before stabbing at his oats with a spoon, "I have no interest in rumours and scandals, Theo. I thought you knew that."

"Not even ones involving you?"

"Well, if it is a rumour involving me, and I have yet to hear about it, I am guessing it _must_ be true," Draco replied, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"That _is_ most disappointing," Theo said as he slathered marmalade over a piece of toast. "I thought you knew better than to kiss Granger in front of a Muggle Studies class during a dramatic reading of _Othello._ "

"WHAT?"

Draco's bellow must have travelled across the hall, because even curious Gryffindors had turned to face him. Draco wanted to drown in his breakfast, and it was not even ten o'clock yet. He especially wanted to since Lavender Brown was eagerly listening and she was easily the biggest gossip in their year. Theo snickered in between bites of his toast. Draco hoped that he would choke on it for basking in his misery.

"So is it true?" Daphne leaned over and asked, Draco suspected after being goaded by Pansy to do so. It was not like Daphne to pry in his private affairs, but he also knew that Pansy was extremely persuasive.

"Of course not." Draco replied quickly and turned back to Theo, "Why would anyone think that I would kiss Granger in front of an entire class?"

"Maybe they thought you were possessed by the same insanity that made you take Muggle Studies," Theo supplied unhelpfully.

"The _only_ reason I am taking that Merlin be damned class, is because my mother threatened to send me home to England if I did not understand the importance of magical and non-magical cooperation," Draco explained hotly.

"Language," Theo said in a singsong voice. Draco firmly ignored him.

"Was this the holiday in France that Granger was also invited to?" Tracey Davis asked as she placed her teacup back onto the table, her pinky pointed out underneath the cup's handle.

"What does this have to do with you?" Draco snapped across at her. The girl smirked at him.

"I am merely curious," the girl said with a smirk, "No need to get hot under the collar, Draco."

Draco glowered at her. Tracey went back to sipping her tea. With her other arm she nudged another girl, Cornelia Runcorn and they both exchanged a smile. They then was on the receiving end of a glare from Pansy.

"Did you kiss her on that holiday, then, do as the French do?" Theo pressed, and when Draco turned to face him, he noticed that Theo's smile growing wider and wider.

"When did my non-existent relationship with Granger become so fascinating?"

"Since your relationship with Pansy became non-existent," Blaise said before grinning into his morning coffee. Soon most of the Slytherin third-years, with the exception of Pansy, Vince and Greg were asking him questions relating to Granger and Draco was slowly becoming more and more irritated. He ignored it for the most part, but then Theo seemed to know how to prod him to irritate him.

It came to a head and all the knives within a five-foot radius lifted from the table and as Draco slammed the Slytherin table, the knives stabbed sharply into the wood. Several Ravenclaws turned around to glower at Draco, as their knives were now perpendicular to their table as well.

Draco ignored them.

"I have not kissed Hermione, and nor do I wish to. I would rather get attacked by a Hippogriff again than actually kiss her, for Salazar's sake, is that understood?"

Most people were in awe from Draco's magical outburst to say anything, and Draco savoured the silence. He knew it would not last, so he stormed off and decided to wait out the remaining time before people went to Hogsmeade in the safety of his own dormitory. Even Theo knew better than to follow him, because one arm injured or not, Draco could still send his bony arse flying. As Draco left, his ears pricked up as he heard the shrill voice of Pansy Parkinson.

"Did someone put a Confundus Charm on me, or did I hear him just call her _Hermione_?"

Draco froze for a fraction of a moment, before stumbling over his own feet in his eagerness to start walking again. He hoped that Theo had not seen him, because his best friend was unusually perceptive and would most definitely call him out for it. Draco turned towards the Dungeons, and saw Hermione walk down the stairs into the Entrance Hall. She was busy chatting to Weasley, and dressed ready to go to Hogsmeade. Draco felt his cheeks redden at the sight of her, and he carried on walking, hoping that she had not seen him or even heard the ridiculous rumour going around.

x-x-x-x-x

As Lacie still had her ballet lesson before she went to Hogsmeade, she breakfasted earlier than Hermione and Ron. Whilst she was able to ignore Harry's sulky face as she ate her breakfast, she could not avoid her brother. She had spent her breakfast time glaring at her brother, a competition of will that only stopped when Theo practically punched Draco on his injured arm. It was not long before he had heard her brother screech from across the Great Hall, and caused the cutlery to rebel around him. What it was that was troubling her brother, she could not wait to find out later.

Fortunately for her, Lavender was sitting across from her. The girl had ignored her whilst she was staring at her brother, not willing to disrupt the tension between Draco and her but now that Lacie was otherwise distracted the girl had spoken up.

"What?" Lacie said, almost choking on her cereal. She swallowed the last bite of her breakfast before wiping her mouth.

"Is it true? You take Muggle Studies too, don't you?" Lavender pressed.

"Why would my brother kiss my best friend?" Lacie asked. As much as Lacie had always envisioned the perfect faerytale ending for her best friend and brother, the notion was actually quite sickening. She watched as her brother stormed out of the Great Hall.

"I heard that Professor Burbage insisted," Parvati whispered to a nodding Cheryl, "It was because his in-class participation was so bad that he had to do it."

"Were you there?" Lacie asked, "That is not what happened. For your information, Draco did not kiss Hermione, and he has never… _well_ …"

The other three Gryffindor girls huddled together and inched closer to Lacie. Thankfully, Hermione and Ron were walking down towards them, and they were dressed ready to go to Hogsmeade.

"Where's Harry?" Lacie asked quickly, as she finished her water. Parvati, Lavender and Cheryl looked at Hermione and Ron with all-knowing smirks on their faces.

"Sulking," Hermione replied as she sat down. Ron rolled his eyes before joining her.

"No, he's just having a lie-in because he doesn't have to be up early to go to Hogsmeade with the rest of us," Ron explained, standing up for his absentee friend.

"On that note…" Lacie said, rushing to stand up, "I have to get to ballet. I will meet you in the Entrance Hall later."

"Oh," Hermione said as she looked shiftily towards Ron, who was determinedly looking away, "I wanted to get to Hogsmeade quite early, so we could meet you and Cedric later in the village."

Lacie nodded before turning to walk away.

"But Lacie, you were just about to tell us about that time your brother kissed Hermione!" Lavender complained.

Hermione looked affronted for a moment at Lacie before turning to Lavender and saying quite coolly, "I'm afraid it's not too scandalous, he kissed me goodnight on the cheek two summers ago." Hermione turned to Lacie and narrowed her eyes, "You're one to talk, you kissed…"

Lacie threw her hand over Hermione's mouth and her friend wriggled under her. The girls glared at each other before collapsing into giggles. Lacie rolled her eyes before waving goodbye to the rest of the Gryffindors. People had huddled around Hermione now, trying to tease the information out of her but it would be to no avail. Lacie trusted Hermione, and despite Lacie's big mouth, Hermione would never tell.

Miss Belle-Faire was not impressed that Lacie was two minutes late, and gave her a rigorous workout, after which, Lacie felt almost too exhausted to even go to Hogsmeade. She should have owled her ballet teacher for the morning off as well, but she knew that she would only regret it the week after. Not wanting to keep Cedric waiting, she ran up to Gryffindor Tower and changed out of her leotard and skirt. Noting that the weather outside was taking a turn for the worse, she pulled on some woolly tights and her thickest robe before walking to the Entrance Hall to meet Cedric.

"Hey Lace," she heard someone call as she made her way to the Portrait Hole. She saw Harry rush towards her, as he attempted to ditch Colin Creevey. It seemed that the Gryffindor second-year still thought that Harry was the centre of his Wizarding world. Harry grabbed her arm and pushed them both out of the Common Room. Lacie's face reddened and pulled her arm out of Harry's grasp as soon as she could. She gulped. The last time that she had been alone with him was after that Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, and all Lacie wanted to do was run away.

 _I would keep contact with Mr Potter at a minimum,_ her mother's voice drifted through her mind.

"Off to Hogsmeade?" Harry asked, oblivious to the tension that was in the air.

"Yes, I think Cedric is waiting for me in the Entrance Hall," Lacie answered as they walked down the magical staircase.

"How long have you known Cedric?"

"Only this term, he is my piano tutor."

"What's he like as a Quidditch player?"

Lacie stopped in her tracks, "Harry, I know Wood has been training you harder this year, but giving you homework on other players is ridiculous."

"No, it's just something Malfoy -…"

Lacie raised her hand and stopped Harry. "Do not let my brother get into your head, he is just trying to throw you off your game with him next week."

They had finally reached the Entrance Hall and Lacie saw Cedric chatting to a group of fourth and fifth-years who were standing by the large doors to the grounds. Harry bade her goodbye before disappearing somewhere, and Lacie felt her stomach drop. As much as she did want to go to Hogsmeade and keep her distance from Harry, she could not help but feel slightly sorry for him. He was the only third-year not going to Hogsmeade, and aside from Colin Creevey and Ginny Weasley, he had no other company.

Lacie glided across the Entrance Hall, and as she joined Cedric and his company, she realised that the group consisted of children whose parents were on the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Being the child of an ex-Governor, Lacie had great reticence to join them, furthermore, as two of them were the vicious people who started rumours about her the previous year, she had no intention of going to Hogsmeade with them. She was about to turn around and run all the way back to the Common Room when Cedric caught sight of her and waved.

 _Lacie you are a Gryffindor, and a Malfoy. We do not run from our fears, has your training not taught you anything?_

She smiled brightly and strode confidently to the group. Cedric smiled kindly at her, something that could not be said about the rest of the group.

"Morning," he greeted before asking, "Good ballet lesson?"

"Not all of my tutors are so accommodating," Lacie said with a forced smile. She looked over at the rest of the group.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Cedric asked himself with a small laugh, before introducing Lacie to the rest of his group, "You know Cyn and Lizzie, the other two are Morgs and Ed. This is Lacie."

"We know," a tall dark-haired boy said, as he looked down at her with an upturned lip. "Her father _was_ a Governor."

"And her family is perpetually taking up inches in the _Prophet_ ," the other boy sniffed he turned to his female companions. "Is Winnie not coming?"

Hutton shook her head, "I guess not. He was saying that Snape had set an awful NEWT essay that he needed the weekend to focus on. I suggest we move on, be seeing you Ced."

The foursome moved on and left Cedric and Lacie standing in the Entrance Hall. As people passed them on their way out to the carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade, Lacie noticed that people's eyebrows were far up people's foreheads.

He seemed to notice her hesitation as he asked, "Are your friends coming?"

"Oh," Lacie said, forgetting that Hermione and Ron had already gone on ahead. "They said that they will meet us at the village."

"In that case, shall we?"

Lacie nodded and walked after him. Like her, Cedric was dressed in a thick robe but he still shivered as the biting weather hit him. He climbed into one of the empty carriages and helped Lacie into it. After a moment, it went on its way to the village. As the carriage began to gain pace, Cedric pulled up the lapels of his robe to cover his ears. The boy gazed at the landscape as the sound of soft, invisible hooves clicked on the gravelled path.

"How do you know that lot?"

Cedric tore his gaze away from the landscape, and looked at her with a smile. "Ministry parties, I'm surprised you haven't been to one yet. They are quite boring, which is why most of us just band together and endure it together."

Lacie chuckled gently as she raised an eyebrow, "I was always too young, and nobody wants a Malfoy at their party anymore."

"I doubt that, I have met your mother."

"I suppose, Narcissa Malfoy never fails to disappoint," Lacie commented quietly.

Yes, well, Ministry parties are always so dull. I don't think you would have benefitted from ever attending."

Lacie did not reply. The wind was picking up, and Lacie wished she had worn a hat or at least tied her hair up. Her face was being whipped as her hair flew about. She had to keep tucking bits behind her ear, before it loosened to fly and hit her in the face again. Cedric noticed her discomfort and smiled.

"Have you any thoughts about where you want to visit yet?"

"I thought you were the tour guide," Lacie replied, trying to keep the hair out of her mouth. Cedric laughed at her, and Lacie frowned at him for it. Instead of staying anything, he pulled at a loose thread in his robe before snapping it off. He transfigured it into a long, grey ribbon with ease before passing it to Lacie. She took it and thanked him before tying her hair up.

"I think today we should wander around a little, and if you see anything you wish to go into, we'll go in and have a browse," Cedric suggested. "And if we get hungry, we could always stop by the Three Broomsticks for lunch, and some Butterbeer to warm us up. That also works for when we see your friends too."

"I would like that, although, I would prefer warm cider to Butterbeer, Butterbeer has always been too sweet for me."

"And cider is too alcoholic," Cedric chastised with a grin, "You would be banned from ever going to Hogsmeade if you returned to Hogwarts drunk."

"Did you not know, rule-breaking is -…" Lacie began as they crossed the gates of Hogwarts and she started to hear the screaming. She covered her ears at once, and began shaking profusely. Cedric lunged for her, his face filling with concern before he froze as well. Lacie fell to the floor of the carriage as they trotted away, but she could only hear her screams as she shook in Cedric's arms. She squeezed her eyes shut, as she shook and with a start she realised that she was not the one shaking. Cedric was the one shaking her.

"Are you alright?"

Lacie looked up at him, her sight was glazed by tears. She blinked, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She sniffed before wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her overcoat. Cedric pulled out a handkerchief, and handed it to her.

"Too sweet or not, Lacie, we are going to have a Butterbeer as soon as we get to Hogsmeade."

Lacie nodded, and agreed to his plan without complaint. She looked back, and saw the Dementors stationed at the gate of Hogwarts, and the ripple of shudders that occurred when students passed them in their carriages. She really hated how they only seemed to shudder, and even Cedric did not seem too affected by them. They seemed to affect her more than anyone else – except for Harry – and she hated it. She hated how they made her feel, and how she felt so weak.

Most of all, she hated reliving that memory, over and over again. She hated that it haunted her dreams, and that she had to cast a silencing charm to stop her dormitory from waking up in the middle of the night. She regarded Cedric for a moment, and realised that she was really glad it was him that was there, and not her friends.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione didn't know how long Ron intended to spend in Honeydukes, but it was cutting into the time she could spend in Tomes and Scrolls and she wasn't enjoying that fact. She agreed, however, to buying a bag of sweets for Harry. It was the day before Halloween after all, and despite there being a feast the next night, it was a nice gesture for the friend that had to stay behind. She kept peering out of the window to see if Lacie had arrived in the village yet. She didn't really want to go to Hogsmeade early, but Ron had insisted. He didn't want to wait around for Lacie to finish her ballet lesson, nor did he want to spend time with Cedric Diggory, a boy they barely even knew. As much as Hermione didn't want to leave Lacie alone with Cedric, she didn't really want to go around Hogsmeade with the Hufflepuff either. She wanted to discover it on her own.

After Ron had attempted to eat his way through Honeydukes, they made a brief trip to Tome and Scrolls before heading towards Zonko's where they found Fred and George inspecting the merchandise and chatting quietly amongst themselves. Ron also bought some Dungbombs for Harry, much to Hermione's chagrin.

Hermione knew that wizarding villages were rare, and she had expected it to be different but it was no different from any other village. There was a post office, although, instead of postmen there were hundreds of owls. There was a hairdressing salon, where Hermione snickered as Pansy directed a flustered young wizard on how to style her hair to her taste. Hermione wondered how much more the hairdresser would take before hexing her hair into the shape of a bat.

After they had visited everywhere that looked remotely interesting, they went to the Three Broomsticks. Ron was surprised to find out that Hermione had never drank Butterbeer and was adamant that he bought a pint for her. Hermione insisted on paying but it fell on deaf ears. Finally, Hermione relented and went to look for seats in the packed pub. She just about secured them a seat when Ron had returned with two tankards of the foaming drinks. He gave one to Hermione, and watched as she raised it to her mouth.

A warm buttery flavour filled her mouth as she drank the warm liquid. Her eyes widened at how sweet it was, and as her parents had been dentists, they would have frowned at this sort of beverage. Hermione was lucky to even have a soft drink at home, with all that acid and sugar that eroded teeth away. She took another sip, which turned into a gulp, of the warming drink before lowering her tankard.

"Good, isn't it?" Ron asked before draining some from his own tankard.

Hermione nodded, not knowing what to say. "Thanks."

"You've got a little," Ron said, reaching over with the sleeve of his weathered winter robes. He brushed the sleeve across her mouth and wiped the foam from her upper lip. Hermione's cheeks went pink at the rather intimate gesture, but Ron seemed to take it in his stride and carried on slurping his beverage.

"Vince, Greg, is that not just the _sweetest_?"

Hermione's head snapped up as she looked at the source of the drawl. Draco was flanked by his burly bodyguards, his arm still in that ridiculous sling as he awkwardly navigated across the bustling pub towards Hermione. She looked around him and saw that Nott and Zabini were at the bar, probably ordering drinks for the rest of them as Draco sought a seat.

"I apologise; did I just interrupt a date?" Draco asked mockingly, and seemed to urge his friends to snigger at them. Hermione's already flushed cheeks went slightly redder. "Was the weasel about to snog the mutt? You should refrain, I do not think that the ogres have a strong enough stomach for it."

"What did you just call her?" Ron stood up, anger was written across his face.

"Ron," Hermione stood up as well, and put her hand on Ron's arm and said in an even voice. "He's not worth it. We should go."

"No, we're not going to let this prick -…"

"I would rather not be in the vicinity of people of his calibre," Hermione muttered, loud enough for Draco to hear.

"My calibre? I can assure you that the filth in here is not me, Granger," Draco hissed.

"If you suggest for a moment that it's me, Malfoy, I know of ways that your mother can make your life more miserable than it already is. After all, and your mother and I seem to get on so well," Hermione said in a voice so quiet that she was sure in the hubbub of the pub, that Draco was sure to be the only one who had heard her.

"Are you threatening me?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Hermione ignored his question, instead patted his injured arm and said quite loudly, "I would be careful Malfoy, I think there's a Hippogriff in the corner and you wouldn't want _Daddy_ to come to the rescue for your mistakes, again."

Hermione stormed off, and she knew it was a low blow to drag his father into their tiff but Draco had annoyed her. He could have just ignored her in the Three Broomsticks, but instead he had decided to goad her and ruin a relatively nice moment. To suggest that she had some sort of romantic inclination towards Ron was just outrageous. She didn't know why Draco had suddenly decided to be so foul towards her. She powerwalked through the village to calm herself down and thought back of anything that she had done in the past few days that would explain his behaviour.

"Hermione!"

Someone pulled her arm back, and Hermione turned to find herself facing Lacie. Next to her was a good-looking boy that was introducing himself to a perturbed Ron. Hermione chuckled as she realised why Lacie had gone to her first piano lesson with the desire to quit that very day, but had then decided to carry on every week. To say that Cedric was handsome was a bit of an understatement. Lacie glowered at Hermione, seemingly reading her thoughts.

"Is everything alright?" Lacie asked.

"Perfect… er, are you having a good time?" Hermione asked with a mischievous smile.

"I suppose, Ced is quite the competent guide," Lacie said, and her companion snorted as he looked at his feet. Lacie laughed. Hermione's gaze darted between the pair of them, wondering if there was something going on between them.

"I know I said that we would meet up, but I think I've exhausted all I have to see, and I might go back to Hogwarts," Hermione said.

"Oh," Lacie replied, looking crestfallen. "Do you mind if I stay?"

"Of course not, er… see you later," Hermione said, and Ron seemed to share her feelings and expressed that he also wanted to return to the castle, having had his fill of walking around Hogsmeade and shopping to his heart's content. She waved goodbye to her friend, and watched as Lacie walked away with Cedric and listening intently to whatever he was saying.

"Since when were those two close?" Ron asked as walked up to her.

Hermione shrugged, Lacie had always affirmed that Cedric was merely a friend and so, her responsibility as a best friend was to trust her. It seemed odd though, firstly Narcissa Malfoy was insistent on her taking piano lessons with the Hufflepuff and now he was to act as Lacie's tour guide? What was Lacie's mother planning exactly? Hermione turned away from the couple, who were attracting stares from other Hogwarts students.

 _Only time will tell, I guess._

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry for the two week wait, again. I think as my workload builds up again it would be easier for me to update every two weeks, as it would be more manageable for me to write and edit alongside all the things I do in my daily life. Churning out a new chapter every week is harder than it seems when real life gets in the way._

 _I, personally, love the idea of studying Muggle literature in conjunction with Muggle daily life and studying the Bard makes for some interesting conversation points. I chose Othello (ref. Interlude I), because it was something I studied when I did my A-Levels and was something other than Romeo and Juliet._

 _As always, happy reading._

 _CSxo._


	11. Peace Out Of Pain

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Ten: Peace Out Of Pain**

* * *

 _For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave._  
 _The black minute's at end,_  
 _And the elements' rage, the fiend voices that rave,  
Shall dwindle, shall blend._

Robert Browning from _Prospice_

* * *

Lacie groaned as she stretched at the Gryffindor table after a night of fitful sleep. Hermione wriggled about as she, too, tried to get comfortable on the bench. Her back ached from the restless night that the entirety of Hogwarts had endured the night before. It had started rather excitingly for the Gryffindors as Sirius Black tried to break into their Common Room, the entire school had been relocated to the Great Hall and had slept on the stone floor in sleeping bags. The rest of the school clamoured towards the Gryffindors, who were more than happy to divulge details of the scandal.

From there, the night took an immediate downturn. The floor of the Hogwarts Great Hall left little to be desired, and throughout the night, Hermione could hear upperclassmen whisper cushioning charms to make their sleeping bags more comfortable. Hermione was used to sleeping in sleeping bags from camping trips, but struggled to sleep on the cold, hard ground. It seemed like forever until Hermione managed to fall asleep, but then at three in the morning, most of the school had been woken up by Lacie screaming in her sleep. When Percy Weasley managed to shake her awake, she was escorted by the Head Boy outside of the Great Hall. After that, Hermione struggled to get back to sleep and it seemed that she wasn't the only one.

People glared at Lacie as they passed her on the way to breakfast, and Hermione noted the dark circles under their eyes. It was clear that they blamed her for keeping them awake.

Harry was staring at Lacie, and in her tired irritation she hissed at him, "What?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, aside from being exhausted this morning, I am perfectly fine."

"Clearly not, if you're having nightmares -…"

Lacie stood up, "I have told you enough times, Harry, I do not want to talk about it."

She walked away angrily and abandoned her breakfast as she did so. Harry and Lacie had been arguing since Lacie had gotten back from Hogsmeade on Saturday afternoon, leaving Hermione and Ron feeling awkward on the side-line. Lacie and Harry almost never bickered, as her friend normally reserved her ire for Ron, but Hermione knew better than to get involved. It seemed that whilst the rest of them were at Hogsmeade, Harry had spent his Saturday discussing the possibility of having private lessons with Professor Lupin. Seeing as Lacie would also benefit from it, the Defence professor also extended his invitation for her too.

She wouldn't be alone, Harry had assured, as he wanted to take lessons from Professor Lupin to handle Dementors too. Hermione knew what Harry was trying to do. He was trying to help Lacie overcome her fear, and help her confront her personal demons so that she wasn't so paralysed whenever she heard Riddle's name or a Dementor approached her. Of course, Lacie being Lacie wanted nothing more than to shove it aside and pretend that she wasn't scared.

 _Stop playing the hero, Harry_ , Lacie had thrown at him on the way to the Common Room after the Halloween feast the next day after a Sunday of disagreements, _I do not need saving._

That had stilled Harry in his step, and he shot Lacie one of his rare, piercing glares that he usually reserved for people he really disliked and caused them to flinch. Lacie, being made of stronger stuff, merely turned her nose up at him and joined the rest of the waiting Gryffindors who couldn't seem to get into the Common Room.

It was unfair of Lacie to accuse Harry of playing the hero, a statement that she had enjoyed throwing around the past two days with such disdain that her brother would be proud. Aside from that comment, and calling Harry the 'Wonder-Hero-Who-Lived', Hermione wondered if her friend had been possessed by her brother. It was only going to be so long before Ron would have to reluctantly restrain Harry from strangling Lacie.

It wasn't fair to Harry, because he was only looking out for his friend, who he had chased after she had run away in a flood of tears after facing her Boggart.

Then again, Hermione understood why her best friend was acting that way. Did Harry really want Lacie to relive one of the worst moments of her life again? Did Harry really want to put her through it all, having seen what had happened himself, for a second time?

However, after the previous night, it seemed as if Lacie was still frightened and had nightmares about the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione wondered if she had nightmares every night, and simply hid it well from the rest of the girls that shared their dormitory.

Hermione stewed over this as she bit into her toast, attempting to fill herself more that morning because she had a long morning. If Harry kept pushing Lacie, he was going to lose her as a friend, that was a given. The unfortunate thing about Harry was, once he had a thought he would keep picking at it until it became a self-fulfilled problem. It was what he did in first-year, and definitely what caused him to be in the Chamber of Secrets the previous year. Still, Harry wasn't playing the hero, as Lacie so unreservedly tossed in Harry's direction. He was just trying to be a good friend, Hermione supposed. Harry stubbornly stared at his breakfast bowl.

"You need to stop pushing."

Harry looked up at Hermione, and said quite pathetically, "I'm just trying to help."

"You know Lace, she hates being protected and made to feel weak, damned Malfoy pride and all."

Harry studied her for a moment before returning to his breakfast. He looked thoughtful as he ate. Hermione watched as Draco ran across the Great Hall towards his sister, and managed to grab her arm. After what seemed to be another hostile exchange between the pair, Lacie ripped her arm out of his grasp – which wasn't hard to do, considering that Draco had one good arm – and stormed off. Draco looked exasperated, and looked over at Hermione before sharply looking away.

Draco was another complication, and Hermione was still furious that he had spoken so rudely towards her at Hogsmeade. She had also refused to reply to the note he sent with that incorrigible rook that he still owned, that requested her presence in the library on Sunday afternoon. She snapped at the rook, who squawked at her unhappily before flapping away and crumbled the note before throwing it into the stove in the middle of her dormitory. She huffed as she lingered on her bed, trying to catch up with her reading for Muggle Studies, often casting a glance at her ashen note.

Initially confused by his behaviour, she had later found out why. Lacie, her cheeks flushed as she took a break from sparring with Harry, miraculously remembered that people thought that Draco had kissed Hermione in Muggle Studies. Hermione suddenly wasn't surprised at his behaviour, and felt frustrated. Instead of simply denying it, Draco had decided to simply humiliate Hermione in his attempt to appear taciturn. As the time drew closer for the first lesson of the day, and she brought a few slices of toast for Lacie to munch on during Arithmancy.

She waved Harry and Ron goodbye, as they had a free period before Charms. It was a short walk to the Arithmancy classroom and Hermione was one of the first few people there. Lacie hadn't arrived yet, and Hermione put the toast on a napkin on the desk next to her. Hermione pulled her work out of her bag, ready for the class to start. She was reading over the notes from the last class when someone jostled in front of her, causing her textbooks to tumble. She looked reproachfully at the person who had knocked her books over, and wasn't surprised to see Draco.

The boy awkwardly bent down to pick up the books, hindered by his arm in the sling. Hermione rolled her eyes as she went to stand up and pick up the books herself, but Draco was shoved away by a tired looking Nott.

Nott swiped the books and parchment up and put them on Hermione's desk.

"Apologies, it seemed that Draco is much too flustered in your presence," Nott said with a mischievous look on his face. "He will try and keep himself under control, pending any other urges to kiss you."

Hermione felt herself redden, and she scowled at Nott, "He better, or else I will hex him six ways from Sunday."

Draco sneered at her before sweeping between the rows of desks. Nott, followed after him, trying to conceal his laugh behind his hand. Lacie sat down next to Hermione, and grabbed the topmost piece of toast before nibbling on it.

"What is the matter with those two? Thank you for the toast, by the way."

Hermione shrugged as an answer to her question, as she straightened out her books. She noticed that there were pieces of parchment in between the mess that weren't there before. She pulled at the sheets, and recognised Draco's handwriting all over them.

"Are _you_ feeling better?" Hermione asked tentatively as she scanned the sheets.

"What do you mean?"

"You and Harry have been at each other's throats since Saturday," Hermione said, frowning at what she was reading. _Why did Draco have notes on magical trials?_ "I know you don't want the help, but maybe -…"

"Do not lecture me, or shall I bring up Ginny?" Lacie shot back and Hermione flinched. Lacie was certainly resorting low blows, knowing that Hermione felt uncomfortable around the youngest Weasley after her encounter with her and a basilisk. Hermione ignored her friend and straightened the parchment in front of her and she saw another, smaller piece of parchment lurking in between the sheets. When Hermione hadn't answered, she heard Lacie mutter, "Exactly."

Hermione ignored her comment and looked at the parchment.

 _ **I was out of order, and I apologise.**_

Hermione scanned through the sheets again, and in his script were pages and pages on research on magical trials involving animals, and past precedence. She looked over at Draco, who was hissing at a bemused Nott and blinked. Had Draco spent the entire weekend writing notes for Hagrid's case? Of course, with his arm, he couldn't technically write but he still had gone to the effort to research all of the material.

Draco looked back at her, and Hermione looked away quickly.

She wasn't going to forgive him so quickly, but he had earned himself a reprieve. _For now_.

x-x-x-x-x

"Hello."

Lacie looked up from her dinner, and saw Cedric standing next to her, and she tried to ignore the giggles around her. Hermione seemed to find the roast vegetables in front of her particularly interesting whilst biting back a grin. All of the Gryffindor boys, except for Neville, eyed Cedric up, as if he was untrustworthy. Most people seemed to be in awe, which seemed to be a familiar occurrence when it came to Cedric.

It was not simply because he was good-looking. It was because, despite being an unassuming Hufflepuff, he commanded attention in a way that would make Narcissa Malfoy proud. Lacie tried not to scoff at the thought.

"Hi, Cedric."

"Do you mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead," Lacie replied, moving down the bench a little to give him space. She sighed. "I know why you are here, and I really do not want to talk about it."

The Hufflepuff sighed, before playfully punching Lacie's arm gently. He smiled at her, and Lacie reminded herself that his crooked smile was not _that_ pretty at all.

"Well, just know that if you do want to talk about it, you can grab me. If you do want to take your mind off it, I know a few brutal concertos that I can inflict upon you."

Lacie appreciated the gesture. That was the difference between Cedric and Harry. Harry wanted to force her feelings out. She still felt stupid for breaking down the first time, and she was trying not to cry just thinking about the sleepless night ahead of her. Cedric seemed to offer a solution that distracted her, and she was surprised to realise that she enjoyed doing it.

"Thank you."

Cedric sat there for a moment, and Lacie raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he had not left yet. She also wondered how much longer it would take before Lavender actually combusted into her evening meal. "Er… That's not why I'm here."

"No?" Lacie asked, raising her goblet of water to her lips.

Cedric ran a hand through his messy, blonde hair. "No, I'm afraid I have to cancel our lesson on Saturday. Hufflepuff are substituting for Slytherin this weekend and I have to prepare with the team before the match."

"I see."

"Just promise me that if Hufflepuff win, you won't take it out on me the following week?" The crooked smile was there again, except it was wider and he was showing his teeth. Cheryl actually dropped her fork, further down the table.

"The last time that Gryffindor played Hufflepuff, we caught the Snitch in, what… under five minutes? I think Harry has this one in the bag, sorry," Lacie joked. She looked over at Harry quickly, who looked away quickly but Lacie could not miss the small smirk on his face.

"I hear the new Hufflepuff Seeker is a force to be reckoned with," Cedric replied quietly, and looking down at the table.

"And I thought Hufflepuffs were humble."

"Naïve Gryffindors."

"Just promise me that you will not punish me with those brutal concertos, if it is a Gryffindor victory."

Cedric chuckled before standing and ruffling her hair, causing her to pout at him. She laughed as he made to walk away.

"No promises," he said, before turning and walking towards his friends further along the Hufflepuff table. Lacie rolled her eyes, and beamed into her dinner.

"What was that?"

Lacie looked up at the person who had spoken to her. She was not surprised to see the freckled face of Ronald Weasley to be arranged in an expression of complete and utter smugness, but what was surprising was his interest in the matter.

"What was what?" Lacie asked back.

"You. Diggory. _Flirting_."

Lacie resisted the urge to gag. "Oh, get a grip, Ronald. I was not flirting with Ced."

"Oh, so he's _Ced_ now is he?" Dean started to tease, "Please, please can I be there when someone tells Malfoy that _Cedric Diggory_ is pursuing his sister?"

Lacie tried to bite back her grin as she suddenly found the fruit bowl in front of her quite fascinating. Ron started chuckling next to Dean, and all the Gryffindors seemed to exchange a look that implied that every single of them wanted to be there when her brother went in his fit of histrionics. She had only heard rumours of how furious he had been during Valentine's Day earlier this year.

"He is not -…"

"I don't see the problem," Parvati interrupted with a sniff, "Are you jealous?"

"Personally, I would rather dance naked in front of Snape than be jealous of Cedric-bloody-Diggory," Ron replied loftily as he ate his food in a manner that was reminiscent of a warthog. He elbowed Harry roughly, causing him to drop his knife. "Promise that you'll beat him on Saturday?"

Harry shrugged, "I'll try, considering I have Lacie's vote of confidence."

Lacie huffed and drained her goblet of water, before indulging in the desserts that were on offer that night. Whilst Harry had certainly learned his lesson in backing off, Lacie knew that it was a matter of time before the lesson about Boggarts would mentioned again.

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione was naïve to think that it had ended so simply, and that Harry and Lacie had finally overcome their bitter quarrel. It was only a few moments ago when she looked skyward and thanked whatever deity was up there who sent Cedric Diggory towards Lacie and cheered her up somewhat. He had even managed to illicit a compliment for Harry, too. That in itself was a remarkable feat, seeing as the pair hadn't spoken for over a week, unless it was to antagonise each other. Lacie was too stubborn to explain herself to Harry first, and Harry was adamant that he was only looking out for his friend. They had reached an impasse.

That was until Cedric had coaxed out Lacie's opinion of Harry's Quidditch skills out of her, a remark that had not gone unmissed by their bespectacled friend. Harry was trying hard to look humble as he picked at his chocolate pudding. Hermione ate her food with slight contentment, not knowing that her smugness for the stand-off to be over had come too soon.

As Lacie was selecting several pieces of fruit, Hermione watched as Oliver Wood sat down next to her, with an accusatory expression on his face.

"What did Diggory want with _you?"_

Lacie looked up from her watermelon, that she was neatly slicing into thin pieces before she would eat them. Hermione watched Lacie consider her words as she pursed her lips before saying, "I believe it is none of your business, Wood."

"Did he ask you about Harry?"

"I beg your pardon?"

The hair on the back of Hermione's neck stood up as Lacie's hiss reverberated through the air, as Wood was looking at her best friend with a stern look on his face. Hermione thought she imagined seeing Seamus wince, and there was a subconscious decision for people to inch away from the impending explosion.

"If you've been giving him information - …"

"Information?" Lacie asked, "Why would I be giving Cedric _information_?"

"Well, what else would Diggory be wanting with you? He knows you're one of Harry's friends, it's more than convenient for him to ask about Harry and the Gryffindor Quidditch practices."

Lacie's mouth dropped open, and she shot a glare across at Harry. "Is this why you keep asking me questions about Cedric?"

Hermione resisted the urge to groan into her dinner plate.

 _They had only just made up. Sort of._

When Harry's faced reddened and he didn't answer, Lacie's glare deepened. "I thought you were only asking me because of some idiotic notion that my brother put in your head, but as it turns out, you made it all up."

"I didn't -…"

Lacie ignored Harry's protests and turned back to Wood, "As for Cedric, he is my piano tutor and he was telling me that he was cancelling our lesson because of your _stupid_ Quidditch game."

Wood looked furious at his favourite pastime being called even something as mild as ' _stupid_ '. Lacie carried on, "If you want information I have some, like all the Hufflepuffs, Cedric plays fair. He has never asked me a single question about Harry or your team. It turns out the real snakes of this school are in Gryffindor."

With that, she stood up, leaving her fruit untouched and walked away. Hermione turned and watched as she pulled Cedric away from the Hufflepuff table, before turning and glowering back at Wood. Cedric looked at them with furrowed brows and a thoroughly confused expression. Hermione knew that some Hufflepuffs sitting at the next table had heard everything that Lacie had said, and they were also shooting Wood dirty looks as well.

Hermione slammed her spoon onto the table and looked across at Harry, who looked suitably guilty.

"Are you _mental_?"

x-x-x-x-x

Harry woke up on Friday morning in a particularly bad mood. The howling winds had done nothing to help him sleep nor did his persistent nightmare. Lacie was now making him miserable during his sleep as well as his daily life. Ever since that Wednesday night, Lacie had made snippy remarks across at Harry, to the point where Harry had made it a personal mission to sit as far away from her in the classes they shared and mealtimes. When Snape had scathingly criticised his potion, Lacie had snickered so uncaringly that even confused her brother. Of course, karma was on Harry's side as Snape noted that he was not an entertainer, and removed a point or two for unwarranted noise-making.

Even as Wood had stopped him before his Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson and started talking to him about yet another thing about Diggory, Harry's mind wandered to the nightmare where Lacie had cornered him into a shouting match in their Common Room.

" _If I recall correctly, Cedric has never tried to get me killed."_

"Diggory is quite big as well – so, just try and hold onto your broom, I think the wind is only going to get worse…"

" _You talk about trying to be my friend, Riddle wanted_ you _, and he used me to get to you."_

"…but don't be fooled by his size because he's also quite fast…"

" _It is all your fault, Harry! You are the reason why I have nightmares!"_

Harry froze at the last sentence, and Wood looked slightly worried for a moment. Harry blinked, and realised that the corridors were completely empty and Harry checked his watch. He was almost ten minutes late for his next lesson and turned around, leaving Wood shouting at him down the corridor. Harry did not turn around, or even listen to what Wood was saying.

Harry knew he imagined that last sentence, because Lacie would never say it to Harry - in his subconscious or not. As much as she probably did blame him for her immobilising fear, she would never say the words out loud, especially in a bustling Common Room where people were hanging onto every word of Lacie's tirade.

That was all Harry.

Harry _did_ blame himself. How could he not? He should have been more careful, he had gotten himself mindlessly disarmed by Lockhart and Lacie had had to save his bony arse. She had then blindly followed him into the Chamber of Secrets, and had been so willing to help him.

She may have nightmares about Riddle, but Harry's nightmares were about his fear of losing her. He remembered the way that she assured him that she could take it. _She_ could take the mindless torture from Riddle, and as he squeezed her throat almost shut, she was adamant in her assurance. She could take it. She could take the being animated against her will, the burning, the almost drowning and all Harry did was fling about a sword and kill a snake. She was the one that screamed in her sleep due to her valiant efforts in the Chamber and yet, Harry was Dumbledore's Golden Boy. The hero.

Harry's blood rose and stomach dropped every time Lacie hurled that word at him. He was angry that she thought that he was trying to be a hero, when all that he wanted to do was protect her, the way he should have done in the Chamber. He was angry that it was what she viewed him as. A _hero. The Wonder-Hero-Who-Lived_. Harry was no more a hero than Lockhart. Yet, he knew that he only felt that way because he had indeterminably failed her. He wasn't a hero, if he was a hero, he wouldn't have recklessly thrown himself into a duel with a basilisk without thinking clearly about how it would end. He wouldn't have let her be harmed. Riddle would have not burned a single hair on her head. If he was a true hero, he probably wouldn't be hearing her screams every time a Dementor approached.

That's what he knew it had to be. When he had heard screaming, and found out that Lacie had heard the same and it was her own screaming from the torture inflicted by Riddle, Harry knew that it was what he could hear when the Dementors approached. Yet, through all of that, he fainted whilst Lacie managed to stay relatively conscious. _Some hero._ It was all his fault that he could hear the screaming, because he hadn't done enough to protect her. Of course she was going to be angry when he tried to protect her now, it was too little, too late.

Harry swung open the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom with his apology waiting in his throat for Professor Lupin, who he knew would be sympathetic, only to reveal Snape. The Potions Master regarded him with those dark eyes of his, and his unmistakeable sneer before removing Housepoints from Harry. Harry bit his tongue as the rest of the class sighed unhappily, Lacie being the only person who was staring straight ahead and ignoring him. Ron had unfortunately sat next to Hermione, leaving a spare seat next to Lacie and Harry took it before Snape could take a further ten points from Gryffindor for continuing to disrupt his class. Lacie visibly bristled as he sat down but Harry ignored her.

"What page are we on?" Harry asked, as he pulled his textbook out of his bag. Lacie ignored him, and purposefully moved her textbook away from him so that he couldn't even see what page they were on. Harry's temper flared. He knew that he was still in her bad books, but he wasn't aware that she would be so petty.

Then again, considering she was a Malfoy and her brother was equally so, he wasn't at all surprised.

The thought of Malfoy caused his temper to flare once again. Of course, Malfoy was the root of this current argument. If he hadn't pulled Harry aside and whispered that there was a chance that Gryffindor would be playing Hufflepuff, Harry's curiosity would not have veered in Diggory's direction. It seemed that Harry had underestimated how much Lacie currently trusted her brother. Despite his outburst last year about Hermione, it seemed that Lacie had warmed up to her brother considerably over the summer.

Even Hermione seemed tolerant of the boy, Harry often catching her whispering to him with a smile on her face in Potions. Then there was that bet, and although amusing, Harry wondered how close the pair had become over the summer for them to make a jovial bet as if they were bosom buddies.

"Mister Potter, is there still something wrong?"

Harry looked up to see the smug face of his Professor, and again, the rest of the class were peering at him with the exception of Lacie.

"I-I… don't know what page on we're on, Professor."

"Did you not think to ask?"

"I _did_ ," Harry replied, looking emphatically at Lacie, who merely sniffed.

"Miss Malfoy?"

Lacie glanced at their professor and said quite simply in a voice that was quite controlled and toneless, "I did not hear anything, Professor."

"Mister Potter - …"

"Why are you lying?" Harry snapped at Lacie, "I asked you what page we're on, and I know you heard what I said because you moved your book so I couldn't even see."

"I moved my book because I was not comfortable with where it was," Lacie replied coolly, "Not because I was trying to stop you from seeing what page we're on."

"You -…"

Before Harry could say anything, Snape had swept in front of Lacie and him and glared at them.

"Five points from Gryffindor," the professor drawled, " _each_. If I had wanted a running commentary, I would have asked for one. Mister Potter, please turn to page three hundred and ninety-four."

Harry ripped his book open, and flicked to the last chapter. Harry knew that they weren't this far in the syllabus yet, but didn't complain. Gryffindor were already twenty points down in one lesson, and Harry had no desire to lose even more.

"Now that Mister Potter and Miss Malfoy have stopped disrupting the class, can anyone tell me how to identify a werewolf?" Snape asked idly and it was no surprise that Hermione and Lacie's hand shot up into the air. Lacie's hand brushed up against Harry, and painfully scratched the side of his head. His glasses went flying, and Harry yelped as he jumped away from her, almost falling off his chair. When he righted himself, Harry glowered at Lacie, even if she was just a blur.

"Miss Malfoy!"

"I was just eager to answer the question, Professor, how was I to know that he would be sitting so close?" Harry heard Lacie said innocently, as Harry blindly felt around his desk for his glasses. Harry thought he heard Snape sigh.

"Seeing as you and Mister Potter cannot sit together civilly, move your things, and sit at the front of the class."

Harry heard Lacie slam her books shut, and the wood chair scraped noisily against the stone floor as she angrily stood up. She walked around Hermione and Ron, most likely to avoid walking around Harry. Harry was glad, as Lacie was short of shoving him before she became an incarnation of her brother.

"Seeing as you are so keen to interrupt my class, Mister Potter, can you tell me how to identify a werewolf?"

"I don't know, preferably with my glasses on?"

Harry's temper was so short that he instinctively answered before properly thinking about it, and he wanted to eat his words as soon as he had said it. The class around him inhaled so sharply, and Harry realised that he was holding his breath as he awaited Snape's response. He was just glad that no one had given his glasses back, so he couldn't see what Snape's face was like. He was also glad not to see the murderous expression upon Hermione's face for disrespecting a teacher like that.

"Professor Lupin may tolerate your smart mouth, Potter, but that certainly will not do with me. Seeing as you all have to constantly rely on Miss Granger and Miss Malfoy's efforts in this class, you will all write me two rolls of parchment on identifying werewolves and how best to defend yourself against one for Monday morning."

The class groaned, and Harry was still glad that he couldn't see the now murderous expressions on his classmates faces as well.

"But Professor, why should the rest of us be punished because Potter opened his stupid, fat mouth?" Harry heard Lacie complain.

"Detention, Miss Malfoy. You have disrupted my class several times now, and I will not have wilful disobedience," Harry heard Snape say, "And if I ever hear you criticise my classes, again, regardless of who your mother is, you will be very sorry. Is that clear?"

Lacie didn't make a sound, so Harry assumed that she had nodded or something.

"Seeing as you cannot have an interactive lesson, you will sit and make notes on the chapter regarding werewolves," Snape drawled, "and the next person to make so much as a sound will join Miss Malfoy on her detention."

Harry's hand fumbled around his desk again, in vain hope that he would find his glasses. He heard something slam on his desk, and reached for it. When he had put his glasses back on again, he could see an imperceptible mask on Snape's face.

"I would take more care, Potter, they are not the only thing that can simply… fall off," he said, the words were so quiet and low that Harry was sure that no one else had heard him. Harry looked up at the Professor, and he had a small smile, "A Quidditch injury will not make you exempt from your homework."

Harry bit his tongue, remembering Snape's threat of the next person speaking, and looked furiously at his textbook before he hastily started making notes. He was sure that the rest of the class were making a start on their lengthy piece of homework. Harry heard Snape make his way to the front of the class and started rifling through the pieces of parchment sitting atop Lupin's desk.

The rest of the hour passed slowly, and Harry could feel his attention wane and his eyelids droop as he read and wrote the same sentence three times. His classmates also looked bored as well, their previous lessons had been so exciting in comparison. Snape was revelling in their misery, occasionally denouncing Lupin's method of teaching aloud to the class as if provoking the hushed Gryffindors to speaking so he could further punish them.

Ten minutes before the lesson was due to end, he spoke quietly to Lacie, but as the classroom was so quiet already, everyone could hear what he was saying.

"Your detention will be with Madam Pomfrey on Saturday morning, you will be assisting her as she prepares for the influx of students that may visit her after the Quidditch match."

Harry watched as Lacie nodded, at least she had the decency to look slightly apologetic.

"It means you will be missing the match too."

Lacie absorbed that for a moment, before purposefully turning and facing Harry. Her grey eyes locked onto his green ones and she pulled up one side of her mouth into a haughty smile.

"Gladly."

x-x-x-x-x

Draco huddled underneath the thin covers that was flapping incessantly in the howling wind. Nott shivered next to him, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm himself under his thick robe.

As much as Draco paraded around the school that he in a complete state of devastation that he could not partake in the day's Quidditch match, he was in two minds about the matter. He was glad that he was exempt from the battering of the rain and being thrown around in the violent winds. He had severely underestimated the two teams that were currently playing on the pitch, as no one had flown off their broomsticks yet. Even Potter seemed to be hanging on, even if he was completely hopeless in the weather. However, Draco was annoyed that Flint had made the decision to substitute Slytherin's game for later in the year. Potter was essentially blind without his glasses, and Draco could tell from the way he was wiping his round glasses that his visibility had been severely compromised. In these conditions, Draco would have most definitely outmanoeuvred Potter. Draco's arm _was_ better, but the barrage of potions and ointments that he applied to his arm only seemed to worsen it. Furthermore, Flint wanted to make absolutely sure that Slytherin would playing in favourable conditions.

The howling wind and Potter's lack of ability to even see seemed to be quite favourable in Draco's opinion, and he wondered how Flint had even been Sorted into Slytherin, as he seemed to lack quite the finesse of being cunning.

However, as much as Draco thought about it, Flint was the captain and he was not. He only hoped that it was howling with rain when the time came that he would be playing Potter.

Diggory was an interesting Seeker, whilst he did not seem to have the innate ability that Potter had – as Draco deigned to admit – he seemed to sit in the air, where the weather permitted and almost meditate for the location of the Snitch. It seemed to work, until his concentration was broken by the violent winds or if the Snitch was blown off course as he chased it. Potter was having no luck, and did not seem to have as many near-misses as Diggory. Draco tracked Diggory, and even though it was going to be spring before Slytherin had to play Hufflepuff, it was useful to see their playing style. Draco could even see Flint taking mental notes.

Draco winced as the Gryffindor team scored yet another goal, and realised that there was a benefit from the howling wind and rain. He could not hear Jordan, the most biased commentator that Hogwarts had to offer, gloat to the rest of the school. The Gryffindor team seemed determined and more polished this year, and it was no secret that Wood was putting his team through their paces. It was also no secret that Wood wanted the Quidditch cup, a relic of his years as a Quidditch captain. Flint wanted the same thing, even if he was resitting the year owing to his dismal NEWT scores. Draco wondered how Flint managed to bribe his captaincy, despite his poor academic results.

There was a crack, and lightning blazed through the pitch and Draco clamped his eyes shut, the imprint of the opposite side of the pitch burning into his retina. He opened his eyes as a long drawn-out whistle extended across the grounds. Draco found himself smirking, wondering if Diggory had managed to secure a Hufflepuff victory. He looked at his Slytherin housemates, who seemed to be wondering the same thing. The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams flew to opposite ends of the pitch and huddled underneath large umbrellas.

"I suppose it is over," Draco muttered, standing up and checking his watch. It had been a miserable hour, and as much as Draco appreciated the sport, the weather had definitely tested his tolerance.

"No, look," Greg said, pointing at the Gryffindor side, where a figure had appeared onto the pitch and the Gryffindor team were soon in the air again. The Hufflepuff team also resumed into the air and Madam Hooch blew her whistle again.

Draco sighed as he sat down again, wishing that he had at least worn gloves. It was fine for his right hand that was firmly in his pocket, but his left arm was still in its sling. Keeping up the façade of an injury did not seem to have its perks.

"Looks like Potter's visibility problems have miraculously disappeared," Theo said, nudging Draco and pointing at the scarlet dot in the sky. Draco tracked the Gryffindor Seeker for few minutes and noticed that his rival was flying as seamlessly as he could given the conditions. He did not wipe his glasses for the duration of the time Draco was watching him.

"It did not miraculously disappear, Theodore," Blaise said, his words were in a long drawn-out drawl and the usage of Theo's full name had not gone unmissed as Theo glowered at their friend, "Personally, I am surprised you did not notice Granger on the pitch, or you, Draco."

"Why would anyone notice that know-it-all mutt on the pitch in this weather?" Draco asked with a sneer.

"That _know-it-all mutt_ just gave Potter a fighting chance to catch the Snitch," Blaise replied dryly. "If Hufflepuff lose by two hundred points, it would only make it harder for you."

"Since when were you so interested in Quidditch?" Theo asked, still snippy from being called Theodore. Draco wanted to roll his eyes at Theo for continuing his petulant act, but stopped himself, knowing that Theo would call him a hypocrite.

"Since when were you so interested in the Mudblood?" Vince asked, on the other side of Blaise, tearing his eyes off the game for a moment.

"First of all, I am only interested in Quidditch because if Slytherin loses the Cup to Gryffindor, of all houses, this one here would never stop talking about it," Blaise said, gesturing at Draco. Draco sniffed at him, before looking away at the game.

"Second of all, it would be smart to keep an eye on her. She is rather unpredictable."

Draco snorted at Blaise, "Granger is the most predictable person that I know, also, I thought you hated her."

Blaise turned to Draco and raised an eyebrow, "No, _you_ hate her. I find her interesting."

"You find her interesting because you know it would annoy Draco if she was your friend," Theo said, looking at Blaise as if he was restraining himself from rolling his eyes.

"Or maybe because I want to look at her Arithmancy notes," Blaise replied airily. "Granger would be a useful study partner."

It was at that moment when Blaise looked at Draco pointedly.

 _How does he know?_

Shrugging it off, Draco simply snorted and asked, "How would I know?"

"You could ask Draco how his notes," Greg suggested.

"Greg, why would I find Draco's notes useful? He spends most of the time in Arithmancy pining over Granger," Blaise replied shortly, and a smile crept up his face.

Draco's face reddened and Theo looked at him.

"He does but…," Theo mused, "How do you remember what Professor Vector says in class to write down?"

"I already told you, I am just smarter than all of you put together," Draco retorted, hoping that Diggory would catch that Merlin-be-damned Snitch sooner rather than later. The Slytherin boys all snorted, with Greg giving Draco a hearty slap on the back. Draco grimaced at the mammoth boy, but Theo did not seem convinced.

His friend opened his mouth to ask something, but was interrupted by a piercing scream from Daphne Greengrass. Screams echoed around the entire pitch, as Draco looked in the direction that the girl was pointing. A scarlet figure was falling, and tumbling through the darkened sky. The figure was being chased by black, hooded figures who were floating above the Quidditch pitch, causing chaos in the minds of the spectators. The crowd suddenly were subdued as the air grew colder and Draco held his robe closer to his body. Theo was covering his ears. Blaise was shivering. No one but Draco seemed to notice that Madam Hooch's whistle had sounded, signalling the end of the game.

As the figure neared the ground, Draco realised that it was Potter, and he had passed out. It was no doubt a side effect of the Dementors, and the crowd stood up and watched to see if Potter was going to hit the ground with an all-mighty smack, but it never came. Someone had cast a spell so that his descent had slowed down considerably, and he landed on the ground gently, albeit still unconscious. Draco's eyes darted towards the sky, the sounds of his irate father in the back of his mind and noticed silvery figures darting out of the Professors' box, and the Dementors were flying away as if scared of the silvery mists in the sky.

"Is he dead?" Draco heard someone ask, and Blaise patted the girl on the head. The girl was considerably shorter than the rest of them, despite being in their year. She was stood on her tiptoes, but as Vince had moved forward to observe what was occurring on the pitch as all fourteen players had grounded, it was clear that she could not see what was going on.

"Do not be dramatic, Cornelia, as if Dumbledore would let his golden boy die," Blaise said dryly. Draco snorted as the girl looked at Blaise reproachfully, as if that was explanation enough for Potter's current state.

"The game has ended. Can all students please return to the castle as quickly as they can!" A voice boomed around the grounds, and everyone started to move towards the exits. Draco glanced across at the Quidditch pitch, where there was a well-formed scarlet crowd around where Potter had landed. Behind him, Greg was shoving the crowd forward, and Draco stumbled with a hiss. There was one upside to all of this chaos. If Potter had fallen off his broom, it meant Hufflepuff had won.

* * *

 _A/N: Apologies for being so late! Obviously with Christmas I'm working double shifts, on top of other stuff I already do, this affects how much/quick I can edit. Also I rewrote parts of this chapter because I was generally not happy with some of it but I think I ironed it out [at last]._

 _I think I have a lot more to write but its already 1am and I think it's time for bed._

 _Happy reading,_

 _CSxo._


	12. Call My Thoughts False

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven: Call My Thoughts False**

* * *

 _There he wakes,  
The laughing fiend and prince of snakes  
Within me, at her name, to pray  
Fate send some creature in the way_

Robert Browning from _Time's Revenge._

* * *

"I see that your behaviour was passable during your detention on Saturday morning," Professor Snape started, reaching for his steaming teacup. "You even managed to negotiate yourself some Housepoints from Madam Pomfrey. A lesser person than I would be slightly impressed by that achievement."

Lacie observed her godfather who sat across her. That night, he had requested an audience with her and she was glad for the distraction. The Common Room seemed stuffier than usual, with the cacophony of an intense Gobstones match and an animated game of Exploding Snap. Even as Ron chewed on the end of his quill in an attempt to complete the History of Magic homework that was due the next morning, his eyes kept wandering to a game of chess that was being played in the corner of the room. Hermione had had the right idea by slinking off to the library, somewhere where she seemed to always be these days but she refused companionship. She seemed to always disappear before Lacie could tag along, but she always returned before curfew with stacks of completed homework, homework that may only have been set that day.

"I have never been more disappointed with your behaviour, Lacerta," her godfather continued after he took a sip of his tea, "Displays of pathetic, petulant behaviour may be characteristic of your brother but I always had held you in higher esteem."

Lacie nodded, briefly removing her gaze from the professor to inspect her surroundings before fixating upon him again.

"Do not think for a moment that I did not consider writing to your mother and father about the detention that you forced upon yourself. However, I do not need any more correspondence from the pair of them. Apparently, your failings at Hogwarts seem to amount to my failings. Do not ask me how your parents can place that blame upon me, but they do."

Lacie continued staring at Professor Snape, as he drained his teacup. He lazily waved his wand and a teapot levitated into the air and tipped, pouring more tea into the cup. With another flick, the teapot rested back on the table. Her godfather had not so much looked away from her.

"I would have at least expected a little subtlety. I know you have a Gryffindor brashness to preserve but you were still raised a _Malfoy,_ and openly sparring with the Headmaster's favourite student in front of a class of your peers was simply reckless."

The professor picked his cup again and momentarily wavered in his gaze as he blew the top of his tea. When he had finished taking a sip, he did not put it on the table. He rested it on the arm of his chair and leaned back, dropping the control he had kept up. They were meeting in a room that led away from his office, and Lacie presumed that she was in Professor Snape's private quarters. A small spread lay before them, tea and biscuits and a plate of sandwiches. When she had first seated, the professor told her that his schedule was usually erratic and therefore he often had the elves prepare some sandwiches for him. The biscuits were for her benefit.

"Cat got your tongue, girl? You do not have problems speaking in the classroom, especially when it is out of turn," he said, his tone barely even moving from a monotone as he admonished her.

Lacie opened her mouth, thinking carefully about what she was going to say. Part of her wanted to say something acerbic back at her godfather, but she knew that she had to be humble.

"I apologise for my behaviour and I promise it will not happen again," she said quietly.

"See to it that it does not," her godfather said dismissively, as he drained his cup again. Lacie noted that the Professor seemed to enjoy his tea profusely. "As much as it deigns me to ask, but have you reacquainted yourself with Potter?"

Lacie's eyes widened at the question and then thought about it carefully. Was she friends again with Harry? She had relished the detention that she had been given to avoid watching him play Quidditch, almost punishing him for using her to get to know Cedric's Quidditch habits. Then he had appeared in the Hospital Wing – unconscious, again - on a stretcher with the Gryffindor Quidditch team surrounding him. Hermione and Ron were soaked to the bone, worried expressions plastered to their face along with their wet hair. Lacie had stopped everything she was doing, and pushed to the forefront of the crowd and her bleeding heart seemed to do the rest. Part of her was annoyed, she had not given all that she had the previous summer for Harry to die in the Quidditch match. The rest of her was filled with worry, and she held onto him.

She did not let him go and kept his rather small hand in her own as he remained unconscious and no one told her to let go.

That was until his eyes fluttered as he woke and there was a sharp intake of breath around his bed. Lacie muttered something about getting Madam Pomfrey as she slipped away, not wanting to be caught next to Harry, especially holding his hand. The team rallied closer to him as she left, and she informed the matron that Harry was waking up. Madam Pomfrey looked at her kindly before giving her some used vials and told her to wash them in the sink. She obeyed, and did not cast another glance at Harry for the rest of her detention.

When she had been dismissed, several hours later that she had originally anticipated with several housepoints for her extra effort, Harry had stopped her leaving. He had almost collapsed as he fell out of his bed, still tangled in his bedsheets.

 _Did you not injure yourself enough, Potter?_ Lacie had asked acidly, and she was glad that the bespectacled boy had the decency to look abashed for a moment before telling her that if she sounded more disdainful she would have sounded exactly like Professor Snape. That was before he told her that someone had told him about her display of moderate affection. Lacie had made a mental note to chew out Hermione for that revelation, but she had yet to do it. It seemed to do the trick though, Harry was grateful for her concern and they seemed to be friends again.

Lacie nodded at Professor Snape.

"Your mother will not be pleased, she had made it clear to me that she does not wish for you to associate yourself with Potter this year," he said, placing his teacup onto the table. "Is your tea still too warm?"

"Pardon?"

"Your tea is untouched, and despite what your gaggle of Gryffindors may believe I do not resort to common poison, especially in tea."

Lacie reached for her cup and took a sip of her lukewarm tea to placate her godfather. She held onto it, cupping it between her hands.

"Biscuit?"

"Are you always this accommodating with your guests, or am I a special case?"

The Potions Master's lip curled to a small smile, and she wondered what his laugh would sound like. He pushed back the sleeve of his robes, and peered at his watch.

"I knew you could not resist yourself. You may wish to watch that sharp tongue of yours, Lacerta, it does you no favours."

"Yes, Professor Snape," Lacie said as she went to sip her tea, which had gone cold now. The professor in front of her merely glanced at the cup before it was steaming hot again and Lacie nearly dropped it in surprise.

"Neither does mockery. Now, onto the matter of Cedric Diggory."

"Pardon?" Lacie asked as she leant forward to place the reheated cup on the table in front of her.

"Are you hard of hearing? Do not play dumb, Lacerta, I had to remove a significant amount of points from your Housemates for permeating my classroom with their incessant gossiping."

"If people are gossiping about me, then this is the first I am hearing of it, Uncle Sev."

"Very well, _that_ I wrote to your mother about, it seems that she approves of the match. Shall I write to her about Mr Diggory's many favourable attributes?"

Lacie's mouth fell agape, "You… she… _what?"_

"I see prolonged exposure to Mr Potter and Mr Weasley has irreparably damaged your reasoning, no wonder your mother wishes for restricted interaction with the pair…"

Lacie suddenly felt a wave of frustration tide over her, "Just because Lavender Brown _gossips_ about something does not make it true!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Cedric is merely my piano teacher, he is not my boyfriend."

"Lacerta…"

"What did you mean, my mother approves of the match?"

Lacie had never seen her godfather look so uncomfortable, even if it was for a millisecond. Professor Snape masked his discomfort as if he was disgusted with the answer, and had to alleviate it with another cup of tea. He seemed overly vigorous in his preparation of his third drink, possibly thinking of a decent answer first. Finally, he took a sip and looked at her again.

"You misunderstand, she prefers Mr Diggory as a companion rather than Mr Potter, for one, he is not a complete dunderhead who recklessly runs into the face of danger," Professor Snape said, and there was something vicious underlying his words.

"I must be more of a dunderhead to follow him into danger then," Lacie said as she picked up her cup with the barest hint of a smile. It was something her mother did when she entertained, a slight self-deprecating remark with a subtle look of amusement that was both seductive and scathing. Lacie was yet to master it, but several months at Beauxbatons had trained her sufficiently. Most of the students there were well-versed this art of intimidation.

Her godfather, most likely familiar with the disarming tactics of Narcissa Malfoy seemed unperturbed.

"I would not say so much a dunderhead, but so very nauseatingly Gryffindor," he replied before sipping his tea again.

"Very much so," Lacie agreed, still not letting up from her act. She glanced briefly away from her godfather and at a small clock in the corner of the room, "Professor Snape, whilst I truly appreciate your concern, Cedric is only a friend and you and my mother need not worry about our rather lacklustre friendship. It is getting late; I should be getting back to Gryffindor Tower before the third-year curfew."

She put her cup down and stood up, and her godfather mirrored her.

"This has been pleasant, Lacerta, we must meet like this again," Professor Snape said, as he looked at her with expressionless eyes.

"I am sure you have another godchild to hassle in the evenings," Lacie replied as she made her way towards the door that lead towards the office.

"He is far too shrill for my liking, soon he will attract werewolves with his high-pitched complaining," her godfather said with a twisted smile upon his face.

"Well, at least I will be able to defend myself against any rogue werewolves that Draco may attract, courtesy of your essay."

"And here I thought that no one in Gryffindor would have done it out of defiance," Professor Snape said, feigning surprise as he followed her out of the door.

"My best friend is Hermione Granger, and she is incredibly serious about homework," Lacie explained with a shrug, an act that was breaking from what her mother would deem acceptable in company.

"Your mother will be glad that at least one of your friends is of adequate competence."

Lacie bit her lip for a moment and then turned to face the Potions Master. "Harry is a good friend to me, and he does not always go looking for trouble, it is not his fault that a mass murderer is after him at the moment."

Professor Snape did not reply or acknowledge that he had heard her, and swept behind his desk, preparing himself to complete the rest of his work. Lacie went to the door and then paused for a moment. She turned back to face the professor, who was already back to marking essays.

"Did you know Sirius Black?" Lacie asked.

He looked up and implored her for a moment before saying, "Yes."

"Was he always evil?"

"Why do you ask?"

Lacie shrugged again, and if her mother was in the room, she would have been chastised for her slovenly actions. "I am from a Slytherin family and was Sorted into Gryffindor, I just wonder if that is the future that I will also have to look forward to."

"Sirius Black was nothing more than an arrogant bully and you are nothing like him, do you hear me?"

Her godfather's voice had risen and he spoke in a hard tone as he held her gaze. His dark eyes continued to survey her, for any signs of self-doubt and was not satisfied until she nodded in understanding. Content, he returned to his work. Lacie frowned for a moment as she considered the answer to her question.

"If you knew Sirius Black, you must have known Harry's father too."

At that, Professor Snape visibly stiffened. His quill froze over someone's work, and a large spot of ink appeared on the parchment that was under it. Even at his error, he remained immobile.

"Why?"

The question was barely a rasp. He did not look at her this time.

"I just know that Sirius Black was best friends with Harry's father, and I suppose he was close friends with his mother too."

Professor Snape did not say anything, and did not move either.

"I suppose I would go mad with rage as well that my best friend was killed, I do not think I would ever stop seeking revenge," Lacie said quietly.

At that the Potions Master's head snapped up and he glared at her, his inky eyes were swimming with a whirling fire of hatred.

"Do not speak about matters that you know nothing about," he said sharply, "Black betrayed the Potters and handed them over to the Dark Lord without so much a look of remorse. Do you wish to know why Black escaped? He is attempting to finish what was started twelve years ago. You are only correct in saying that he was mad with rage, because he was, but because his master was vanquished."

"B-But…"

"Black escaped to kill Potter, nothing more."

Lacie took a step back.

"But he was a Gryffindor…"

Professor Snape laughed, and it was an ugly noise filled with mirth. "There can be bad people in Gryffindor, Lacerta, do not be so naïve to think differently."

Lacie swallowed nervously and nodded, quickly bidding goodbye to her godfather and rushing out of the office.

 _Black escaped to kill Potter, nothing more._

The words chilled Lacie to the bone, producing a patch of goose bumps to appear on her skin. She wandered up, making the long journey to Gryffindor Tower from the Dungeons. She had been completely wrong about Black, and she was scared. Before, she had not understood the gravity of the extra precautions that the school and teachers had taken. She had not understood why Professor Dumbledore was so afraid and had evacuated all of the students into the Great Hall on Halloween.

 _He is attempting to finish what was started twelve years ago._

It was no wonder that her mother did not want her near Harry. It was no secret that Harry was a magnet for trouble, and his first and second year only proved that. Sirius Black killed _thirteen people_ , and if rumour was to be believed – his response was to laugh at the Hit Wizards who were there to arrest him. If Black got into Gryffindor Tower again, how many would he kill to get to Harry?

 _How much could Lacie risk this time?_

Would Black use her to get to Harry, like Riddle had? Her hand reached towards her head where there was still a round bald spot, where her hair would never grow back and it ached against her touch. She grimaced at the pain.

"Your curfew is in ten minutes, I would get back to Gryffindor Tower rather soon," a silky voice purred behind her ear and Lacie jumped. A hand clawed at her pounding heart, whilst the other reached inside her robes and she pointed her wand in the direction of the voice. Behind her, a Hufflepuff Prefect held up his hands in surrender. Lacie breathed a sigh of relief.

 _It is only Cedric._

"You scared me," Lacie said, stowing her wand in her robes again.

"Since when were you so easily spooked?" Cedric said with a crooked smile, one eyebrow carefully raised. The Prefect that was with him glowered at Lacie.

"Since a mass murderer broke into Hogwarts," Lacie said curtly.

"Get back to your Common Room, Malfoy," the other Prefect drawled above crossed arms. Lacie barely acknowledged her, and Lacie turned around, not wanting to be caught in an argument with a Prefect who would only take points away from her. Lacie walked briskly, and made her way up a set of stairs as she heard disagreement below her. She ignored it, knowing if she lingered she only gave a Prefect an excuse to punish her for being out after hours.

"Lace, wait for me!"

At that, Lacie turned around and saw Cedric bounding up the stairs towards her. When he reached her, she frowned as she looked up at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Walking you to your Common Room," he replied, again with another crooked smile, "Scaredy-cat."

"I am no such thing," Lacie said as she bit back a smirk, "Since when did you take a special interest?"

"Well, if you believe all of the rumours that float around Hogwarts…"

Lacie stopped mid-step and turned towards him, "I do not, and it is no laughing matter."

He laughed as he looked away from her, the amusement flooding his handsome features as they started walking again, "No, I guess not."

"Does it not bother you?"

He shook his head, "People talk because they have nothing better to do, but I don't care because I have too much to do."

"Yes, I suppose Quidditch Captain, Prefect, OWL year and piano teacher would do it," Lacie said and this time her smile was visible.

"Keeping an eye on me, Malfoy?"

Colour flushed her cheeks as she stopped to wait for a moving staircase, it was moving in the wrong direction and she would have to wait for it to go the way that she wanted. Silence lingered between them, and Lacie could hear the hushed whispers of the portraits.

"Do not flatter yourself, Diggory," she finally said.

"I think you may be falling for me," Cedric teased. The staircase finally moved in front of them and they both made their way up towards Gryffindor Tower.

Lacie stalked ahead, annoyed by his comment and his general presence. After her conversation with Professor Snape, certain things seemed to make sense. She had expected the Hufflepuffs to be nicer to her after her passing comment about them being fair people, but she wondered how much of that had to do with her now being associated with Cedric, their shining beacon. She remembered the other girls in her dormitory, and how they had giggled in the corner when she told them that she was going out. Even Ginny Weasley, when she joined Ron for a game of ultimately ill-fated chess, seemed to be amused. The only people that did not seem to be enjoying the joke was her, and maybe Hermione. If Cedric was too busy to contemplate the rumours, then Hermione surely was.

"I already told you to not flatter yourself," Lacie said as they reached the seventh floor.

Cedric's laugh this time boomed around them and had to stop walking to clutch his sides. His laugh caught the attention of the sparse collection of portraits that were on the seventh floor. Lacie stopped and glared at him.

"What part of that was funny?" she asked.

"You have never struck me as someone who cared so much about what other people say about you."

"I do not. Care, that is."

"Then why are you so serious?"

Lacie huffed and carried on walking towards the Portrait that hung over the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, leaving Cedric alone in the corridor. She resisted looking back to see if he was following her but heard no footsteps indicating that he had moved. When she reached the Portrait Hole, she finally looked behind her and saw that the corridor was empty. Cedric had left, probably to meet up with his Prefect companion and finish off his rounds.

" _Lancelot_ ," Lacie said to Sir Cadogan, as he challenged her to a duel and the Portrait swung open. Her mind was swimming with his comment about her seriousness.

 _Tom Riddle tried to kill me, and Sirius Black might kill me to get to Harry. How does one not be serious in the face of all that?_

She stood in the Portrait Hole and thought about it, and realised that she could not control Harry's penchant for danger, no more could she control who her parents were. She stood in the darkness of the Portrait Hole and laughed quietly, letting the noise linger in the air. She laughed again, and the noise was louder this time and she realised that Cedric had been right. She _was_ a scaredy-cat and she _was_ too serious.

"You're in a good mood."

Lacie stumbled out of the Portrait Hole as she turned around to the source of the voice and saw the riotous curls that framed her best friend's face.

"I just had tea with my godfather," Lacie replied as they walked over to a table where Harry was enthusiastically playing Exploding Snap with Ginny, as Ron sullenly looked on.

"Professor Snape has the power to cheer up?" Hermione asked as she dropped her books onto the table, causing the magical cards to crackle. "I never thought I would see the day."

"I still can't believe that _Snape_ is your godfather," Ron muttered, "You would think he would take less points off you."

" _Professor_ Snape does not play favourites with Gryffindors," Lacie replied dryly.

"How come he's your godfather?" Ginny asked, looking up from her cards to implore her and Harry swivelled to face her too.

Lacie nudged Harry across, and sat down in the space he made for her and shrugged at Ginny. "He and my mother were in the same year and House at Hogwarts, and I suppose they were close friends because of that. I think the only person that Professor Snape is scared of is my mother."

"That's something I would pay a thousand Galleons to see," Ron said with a grin.

"That sort of thing is priceless, Ronald," Hermione said as she browsed through a copy of the _Evening Prophet_. The cover was Sirius Black again, and more promises from the Ministry to capture the criminal and finally put him back behind the bars. Hermione seemed to be more interested in the pages that concerned new developments in the Ministry legal system, most likely trying to get more research for Hagrid's case against Lacie's father.

"Could you imagine if your godfather was Sirius Black?" Ginny asked in a stage whisper, "I think I would take Snape any day."

Lacie bit her lip and looked away from Harry, as Hermione corrected Ginny. Ron wondered aloud what Professor Snape would be like as a godfather, even commenting if he was a good godfather as he constantly removed Housepoints from Lacie and her friends. Lacie rolled her eyes. Her mind was spinning wildly. If the Potions Master was her godfather because he was a good friend of her mother's, then it made sense that a good friend of the Potter's might be Harry's godfather.

 _Black betrayed the Potters and handed them over to the Dark Lord without so much a look of remorse._

Lacie smiled as Harry and Ginny continued to play Exploding Snap, and watched as the cards exploded, and ashes went all over Hermione's library books. Hermione clucked over her books, and Ron fell about laughing. Harry blushed as he hid his face from Hermione's potential wrath and Ginny profusely apologised. Lacie observed the scene as if detached, and she could almost hear Cedric's voice in her head.

 _No one else is worried, so why are you so contemplative?_

At that, she joined in laughing and a flustered Hermione gathered her books and protectively stalked to their dormitory.

x-x-x-x-x

There was an audible wince in the Gryffindor stands as Hufflepuff conceded a thirtieth goal. Ravenclaw were dominating the match, at three hundred to twenty and Hermione couldn't keep her eyes off the navy and bronze flyers that were barrelling down the pitch. Her eyes darted towards the other players: the Hufflepuff Chasers were looking dejected that Ravenclaw was winning by such a large point margin, the Hufflepuff Beaters missed very shot they could when the Bludger was in their direction. The Hufflepuff Keeper was being yelled at by every Hufflepuff student, and it did nothing for their confidence or ability to save a goal.

"So if Hufflepuff lose, what does it mean for us?" Hermione asked tentatively and turned to face Harry but he was glued to the game. It was the first time in a long time that Hermione's nose wasn't in a book, or she was surrounded in something that wasn't a classroom or the library. Still, as she shivered underneath her outer robe, and she would rather be inside than watching Quidditch. It was a frosty November afternoon, but the winter chill didn't stop the entirety of Hogwarts stepping out and watching the game before them.

"It means that Gryffindor have a fighting chance for the Cup again," Ron answered for him, "If Hufflepuff lose against Slytherin and we beat Ravenclaw, we could easily slip to second or third place, depending on the point margin."

"Then that's good isn't it? Harry?" Hermione nudged her friend, knowing that he was most likely driving himself crazy as he stared at the two Seekers in the air.

"What is she doing?" he asked, tearing his eyes off the game to look at Ron.

"She is flirting with him," Lacie answered beside Hermione, before Ron could say anything. Harry turned to face Lacie with wonder on his face.

"Flirting? How can you tell?"

"Jealous?" Ron asked with a grin, and Lacie rolled her eyes in response. It seemed as if Ron had reached the same conclusion that Lacie had. Hermione winced as Hufflepuff missed scoring a goal.

"Hardly, it is a good tactic, though. Cedric is one of those people who likes to synchronise his magic to his surroundings and feelings, like he is sensing for the Snitch rather than looking for it," Lacie carried on explaining.

"I noticed that, it worked a little during the last match," Harry said.

"Yes and you are not the only one, Cho is following him and distracting him until she has a chance to catch the Snitch herself," Lacie said with a grimace, "See how she is twirling her hair, and laughing with him? It looks like she is leaning forward to hear what he is saying, but really, the minute that Cedric flies in pursuit of the Snitch, she is ready and streamlined to take chase."

"Are you really saying that the only girl on the Quidditch team is using her gender to one-up the Hufflepuffs?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes at her best friend.

"No, she is using her brain and distracting the other Seeker whilst Ravenclaw drive the point margin up. Now, it does not matter if Diggory catches the Snitch, they will never win the game," Lacie explained hurriedly, and she looked over at Ron who, for once, looked impressed with her. She continued to speak, "Also, it is Ced's fault if he is distracted easily by her.

"Not that she is not a great Seeker," Lacie concluded, "She has quick reflexes and good flexibility, and nimble when she flies through the air. She is on the same level as Draco, I suppose."

"All of that doesn't matter, of course," Ron added, "The Ravenclaw Chasers are too good."

"We could take them," Harry muttered darkly, his eyes trained on the Seekers that were still immobile in the air, and even Hermione could see the back-and-forth between them. Lacie tensed for a moment next to her, and seconds later Cedric was darting towards the other end of the pitch and Cho was chasing him, and was slowly overtaking him.

"She's going to get the Snitch," Hermione whispered, and the other Gryffindors around them stood up as they eagerly waited for the moment Madam Hooch would blow her whistle. It would be the biggest Hufflepuff loss in a century or two, and there was no doubt that Diggory would get ousted as team captain, despite how popular he may be. Hermione was glad for the game to finish, as it had been miserable to watch Hufflepuff play, as if the pitch was covered by a swarm of Dementors again.

"She is not," Lacie said in a singsong voice and a Cheshire cat grin to match.

"I know he's your friend, Lace, but she's passing h-…" Hermione said, trailing of her sentence as Cedric swerved upwards and around and went back on himself. Cho was still zooming in the direction Cedric had led her to as Cedric flew back and it took her several moments to check behind her for Cedric, and Hermione realised what he had done.

Seconds later, Madam Hooch's whistle sounded in the air and Hufflepuff cheered weakly. Even though Cedric had caught the Snitch, Ravenclaw had still flattened them and that was just with their Chasers.

"The point margin could be worse," Ron said reassuringly to Harry as the four stood up to make their way out of the stands. Harry looked pensive as walked and Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. If only her friend was so concerned about his increasing pile of homework like he was Quidditch, maybe he wouldn't have so much trouble completing them on time. Hermione sighed realising that it was an aspect of Harry that was probably never going to change.

"How did you know that Cedric was faking it?" Hermione asked once they had departed from the crowds and were well on their way back to the Castle.

Her friend smile mischievously as she exchanged a look with Ron, who was also smiling and she said, "Because, Cedric was flirting back."

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione and Ron didn't speak all the way back from Hogsmeade. Ron stared out at the vast expanse, squinting at the glare from the sun reflecting from the bright, white snow. Hermione rubbed her nose before rubbing her gloved hands against each other. They both shuddered as the carriage passed the Dementors at the gate, and Hermione pushed the whispered taunts of her childhood bully to the back of her mind as they trotted through the snow laden grounds.

 _Sirius Black betrayed Harry's parents._

 _Lacie was wrong._

The two sentences hung in the air, and Hermione knew that Ron was thinking it too. Without the Invisibility Cloak, they had waited until the Professors were merry before they could duck out unnoticed, but that had given Harry enough time to stew in his thoughts. No sooner had they left the Three Broomsticks, Harry had darted in the direction of Honeydukes and out of sight. Ron suggested that they go back to Hogwarts and hopefully corner Harry in the Common Room. Hermione didn't know what to think, then again she didn't have a godfather that had betrayed her parents.

The rising bile up her throat was not a side effect of the Dementors. It was the knowledge that Sirius Black was Harry's godfather made Hermione feel nauseous. It was a rare occasion that Hermione felt relieved that Harry spend his summers where he did, because he could have just ended up dead.

Hermione and Ron climbed up the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room in silence again, and Ron mumbled the password for Sir Cadogan and Hermione quietly followed him. The excitement that Harry had been given the Marauder's Map had dissipated quickly and Ron was pensive.

"Have either of you seen Harry?"

Hermione's neck snapped up at the source of the question and was nearly pounced on by Lacie. Hermione studied Lacie's expression and found that her best friend was beside herself with worry as she paced.

"Yeah," Ron said as his shoulders sagged.

"Where? I have been looking for him _everywhere_."

Ron looked around the Common Room and saw a table and a set of chairs that was in a quiet area and moved towards them as he took off his tattered robe. Lacie followed him, demanding answers. Hermione almost hit her head in realisation. Lacie had planned to spend the day with Harry after her ballet and piano lessons earlier that morning, knowing that Harry would be miserable otherwise. Hermione knew that part of it was because she didn't want to go past the Dementors again but fortunately had her barrage of extra-curricular activities to excuse her from these trips.

Of course, Harry being Harry would have run off to Hogsmeade without even telling Lacie where he was going and leaving her to spend her Saturday searching for him.

Hermione sat down, still cold from the snow outside and Lacie regarded Ron and her with narrow eyes.

"What is it?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat and winced as she answered, "He was at Hogsmeade."

"Hogsmeade? How was Harry at Hogsmeade? Did his Aunt and Uncle send Professor McGonagall a permission slip?" Lacie asked as her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Not… exactly," Hermione started, and she looked towards Ron for help. The boy sighed and then he launched into a detailed account of how Harry got the Marauder's Map, and how he had used it to sneak into Hogsmeade. Hermione watched as Lacie's eyebrow raised higher and higher with every detail she disapproved of. Before Ron could even tell them about what had happened in the Three Broomsticks, Lacie turned to Hermione.

"Did you not even think to stop him?"

"Of course I did," Hermione snapped, annoyance rising through her. "I even told him that he should take it to Professor McGonagall, but… it is Christmas… and well -…"

"Insane, the pair of you! Harry is going to get himself either -…"

"Either what, Lacie?" a voice said behind them, and Hermione found herself standing up quite sharply. Lacie pursed her lips and Ron turned his attention away and stared out of the window.

"Harry," Hermione said gently and put a hand on his arm, "Are you alright?"

Harry sullenly brushed her arm away and walked around the table that they were sitting at so that he was stood next to Ron and he bit the inside of his cheek. Lacie's gaze followed him and thought for a moment before saying, as she was looking up at him.

"You will get yourself expelled or killed because if you had not noticed, there is a mass murderer who would very much like to kill you," Lacie said tartly.

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed!"

Hermione looked over at Ron, who was more focused on what was occurring outside of the Common Room rather than what was going on inside. Hermione decided to bite the bullet and forced a smile at Harry.

"We are only trying to protect you," Hermione said, "Is that so bad?"

"I don't need protecting," Harry said adamantly. "I _want_ him to find me."

"Then you are stupider than you look," Lacie said, standing up and glaring at Harry.

"Lace, it's not that simple," Hermione said before sighing and sitting down. Hermione then, with Harry's implied permission, she quickly recounted what they had overheard in the Three Broomsticks. That Black was a Secret Keeper for the Potters, and Harry's godfather. That, within days, Harry's parents were dead. That Black had been confronted and killed all those people. Hermione also added, her voice getting unsteady and quiet, that Lacie had been wrong. Black hadn't gone mad with insanity that his best friend was dead, he had turned rogue and was mad that his master had been vanquished by a baby.

Lacie merely blinked at her when she had finished.

Hermione felt unsettled at how Lacie was not reacting by jumping on Harry and giving him a hug, instead she looked blank and emotionless. Harry seemed to notice this too, as he narrowed his eyes as he turned to Lacie.

"Why do you look like you already know this?" Harry asked carefully.

Lacie opened her mouth guiltily and shut it.

 _No, Lacie. No, no, no._

"Professor Snape told me a week ago, he spared me the details but he told me enough," Lacie admitted as she played with the edge of her cardigan. Hermione shut her eyes in exasperation and cupped her face with her hands.

Ron and turned away from the scene outside to look at Lacie and said, "And you didn't think it was important to tell Harry?"

"Yes, because there is always a perfect time to tell someone that not only is there an escaped mass murderer out to kill you, but he is also responsible for the death of your parents," Lacie said venomously as she glared back at Ron, and then she looked at Harry and added, "Congratulations, you have a godfather, too bad he was in Azkaban for all of your life because he betrayed your parents and killed thirteen people."

Her outburst stunned the rest of them into silence. Harry huffed and barged past Lacie without even looking at her. Lacie's face fell, and her arm twitched, as if she wanted to grab Harry to hold him back but had decided against it. She turned to Ron, and he shrugged back at her, as if to ask what she wanted him to do. She then turned her attention to Hermione who only had a sympathetic smile.

"You should have told him."

Lacie sagged a little and tucked some of her hair behind her ear, "I know, I suppose I did not want it to be true."

"Just in case he goes looking for Black? I know you're trying to protect -…"

Lacie interrupted Hermione as she spoke and said, "I was not thinking about Harry. Well, of course I thought of him but… in first year, his obsession over Professor Snape meant that the both of you ended up in the Hospital Wing, and in June, I was tortured and drowned."

Lacie exhaled, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She spoke with closed eyes, "I know it is selfish, but I suppose I was just protecting myself. I do not know how many times someone is going to attack me to get to Harry."

Hermione stared open-mouthed at Lacie. She knew that Lacie's mother had been putting pressure on Lacie to stay away from Harry and to keep out of trouble. At first, Lacie had laughed it off but it seemed that the seeds of doubt that had been placed were taking root. Hermione opened her mouth to say something but no words came. Lacie mumbled something about needing to pack the rest of her things. Unlike Ron and Hermione, Lacie was leaving for the Christmas holidays and was leaving the next morning. Hermione wanted to follow after her but seemed to be stuck in her seat. Ron's gaze followed Lacie as she went up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. When she disappeared out of sight, he returned to staring outside.

"She's right, you know," Hermione said after a while.

"Bollocks, Hermione. You know she would be the first person to jump in front of Harry in a duel," Ron replied. "You saw how she was when Harry was brought into the hospital wing."

Hermione could see the blizzard swirling outside reflected in his blue eyes.

"I didn't say she was a hypocrite, I just said that she was right. Harry does _obsess_ and it does get him into trouble, sometimes at the expense of the people around him."

Ron turned to face her and groaned as he acquiesced to Hermione's statement. He took a deep breath and said, "Harry blames himself enough for what happened to Lacie."

"Then let's stop this," Hermione said pleadingly, "We have to convince Harry not to go looking for Black."

Ron nodded, and Hermione smiled and copied him as they stared at the gathering blizzard outside. There was something calming about the storm outside, and Hermione watched it all night.

* * *

 _A/N: Merry Christmas to all my great readers and thanks for reading this story :)_

 _I thought I would edit this chapter as a [belated] Christmas present but I will be updating fortnightly again after this chapter._

 _Happy reading,_

CSxo.


	13. Interlude II

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Interlude II**

* * *

Dear Hermione,

Is he still angry? I was thinking about it on the train home, and I realised that you – and to a lesser extent, Ron - were right. I should have told him about Sirius Black, but would that have really lessened his anger? Would he have stopped obsessing over it? If I had told him before he knew how to get into Hogsmeade, would he have used that trip to go looking for Sirius Black? Those are the questions that I also keep thinking of, and I wonder if I was in the right, after all. I was just tired of meddling in affairs that were not my own to meddle with so I pretended I did not know.

I hope that by the time that I get back from the holidays that Harry would be fine with me again. I just did not want him to be angry with me over the holidays and for him to stew over it. Maybe my mother was right and I should stay away from Harry as we have spent most of the year arguing and falling out.

Also, you will not believe where we are staying over the Christmas holidays! Mother is currently renting a small cottage on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole. Does that sound familiar? It should, because the next house over is Ron's! Apparently Mother and Mrs Weasley get along nicely, so much so, that Mother is considering raising chickens. It is rather provincial of her, but she seems genuinely interested. Ginny might come around some time during the holidays as she seems really lonely, but Theo and his father are due over for dinner later tonight.

Yours,

Lacie

x-x-x-x-x

Lace,

Don't be silly, of course Harry isn't still angry with you. You know how he is, he just gets really angry and when he calms down enough to rationalise things he realises that people do really care about him. Ron and I tried talking to him, but then he wanted to go and see Hagrid and since he has calmed down some. Maybe the real problem is that you're overanalysing your friendship with Harry again because your mother is meddling. I thought you saw through the whole Cedric-is-a-smokescreen façade she has concocted, but clearly not. Harry is a friend and I doubt he is going to do something truly stupid this year.

I didn't know that your mother was friends with Ron's mum! I don't think even Ron knows that they're friends. Also, chickens? Your mother really isn't the type to raise them. I can only imagine the look of abject horror on your brother's face when he realised who his neighbours were, too. Will you be spending Christmas with them too? It seems such a shame that Ron is staying at Hogwarts if the rest of the Weasleys are at home but I can understand why. I can also understand why you didn't.

Have you read the _Daily Prophet?_ The case against Hagrid has been dropped, but they're still going to Wizengamot over executing Buckbeak. Luckily, I have researched a lot on animal trials but unfortunately I don't think there may be a case. In the Muggle world when an animal attacks a person, the animal normally gets put down. I'm still looking for a loophole because Hagrid told everyone about how proud Hippogriffs are, and everyone saw Draco bait Buckbeak. It will be a lot of reading over the next few months, but I will find something. In fact, did you see how much homework we were set over the holidays? I just about finished my Rune translation, but it was far too easy so I'm sure I've mucked up somewhere.

Your friend,

Hermione.

x-x-x-x-x

 _ **Record numbers leave Hogwarts over Christmas holidays**_

 **By I. Jarsdel**

Statistics from the Department of Magical Education has revealed that a record number of students have decided to spend their Christmas at home rather than at Hogwarts. Hogwarts has traditionally allowed students to stay over the Christmas and Easter holidays, with keen students usually remaining to study for their OWL or NEWT exams. Officials from the Department do not attribute this to the recent attempt to break into Hogwarts by serial murderer Sirius Black. Ptolemy Wick, representative of the Department, states: "Hogwarts is one of the most secure magical compounds in Wizarding Britain and Ireland, and the Ministry is confident that the added reinforcements to Hogwarts' already resilient security is more than enough to deter Black from entering, and an attempt to do so will result in his capture."

Mary Nithercott, mother to three students, is not so convinced. "If I could, I would not send them back!" she asserts, "Black has already broken into Hogwarts before, and they did not capture him. I don't know what to believe but I know that Albus Dumbledore isn't doing enough to assure us parents that he is dedicated to the safety of our children."

Grace Wood, however, thinks that the added measures are too stringent. "My son was playing Quidditch when the Dementors swarmed towards the pitch during a game. One of his teammates fell a hundred feet or so off his broom after being attacked by them. I understand that the Dementors are there to protect the students but Hogwarts is not Azkaban. If Black got past the Dementors before, surely he could get past them again. There should be other measures in place rather the usage of these barbaric creatures."

The Ministry of Magic has always assured that the protection of the students has always been a priority, but recent events have not substantiated these claims. Furthermore, as Black has been sighted less frequently, the question remains – will Black ever be captured and be subject to the Dementor's Kiss?

 _The Daily Prophet_ wrote to Headmaster Dumbledore and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall prior to publication, but they declined to comment.

x-x-x-x-x

Dear Lacie,

Thank you for your Christmas presents! I think I'll find the history on the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy an interesting read. Ever since this summer I've been wondering what 'dealings' with Muggles your family had in the past, and I'll be happy to read up on them. It would certainly be a holiday from all the holiday reading that I've done so far. I think I may have done too much on the Muggle Studies essay, and I probably have read too far ahead in Arithmancy, but seeing as I have all of this time off, there is no time like the present. I may as well get ahead now or I'll probably just tire myself out when we have lessons again. Harry, Ron and I have also done a lot of research for Hagrid's case, not a lot of it is helpful but we have more or less an entire library at our disposal.

Well, probably just my disposal. You see, Harry and Ron are not too pleased with me. Harry got a Firebolt for Christmas from someone without a note and it was delivered by a non-Hogwarts owl. _A Firebolt_. I'm not the maddest of Quidditch fans but even I can assume that is quite the prestigious gift. Even when Harry got his Invisibility Cloak, there was a note saying that it belonged to his father, but this expensive broomstick arrived and there was simply no note. Before you write back and ask me if I thought it was from Sirius Black, you needn't bother. I went straight to Professor McGonagall and told her and she agreed with me, and then went to the Common Room to confiscate the broom to thoroughly check that it was safe.

Of course that arrogant so-and-so, Ronald Weasley, rounded onto me and started yelling at me. If my cat isn't trying to sabotage his life then it's me, I suppose. He didn't care that I did it for Harry's safety, but what does he know? I was the one who had to distract Snape – who distracted Quirrell – when Harry had a jinxed broom in first year. He just stood there like a fish, you know, opening and closing his mouth without anything useful to contribute to the situation. Harry obviously took Ron's side, and stormed off before I could even explain. Maybe I should have left it alone and left him to fall off his broom again, who cares if a serial murderer is trying to off him, Harry certainly doesn't.

I shouldn't have written that. I'm just a bit tired, I have the longest of days and I don't seem to sleep enough. I know that once Harry has properly processed the situation, he'll realise why I did it. Sorry to unload on you like that in this letter on Christmas Day. I should have kept it light, but it was just weighing on my mind and before I knew it, I had written it all down.

Hope you've had a lovely Christmas!

Hermione.

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie,

Thanks for the present. Did you get books for everyone for Christmas? I suppose it was easier as you haven't gone to Hogsmeade to do your Christmas shopping and probably just had one of your many house-elves pick something up for you. Harry says thank you, too. He just doesn't want to write to you after you left on such bad terms. I think he wants to make up to you in person… and I may have told him what you said. Look, I don't blame you. I really don't, but it was a bit unfair. It wasn't as if Harry asked any of us to go and get the Philosopher's Stone or go to the Chamber of Secrets, it just happened.

Also, your best friend has crossed the line. I don't care for anything she has to say for herself. She is as stubborn as ever, first she bought a cat to spite me and snitched to McGonagall about the Firebolt to spite Harry. Even if you think it is Black, how is he going to walk into a Quidditch shop and simply steal a Firebolt with no one noticing? There have been no reports of a theft occurring, so explain that, Lace. You would think that one of the most expensive broomsticks ever made would warrant a newspaper article on it. If he had someone else buy it, how on earth did he get the money? No one could find that amount of money in a cave or something, so Black would have had to go to Gringotts or something to withdraw the money. How can Black walk into Gringotts without raising alarm? None of it fits, Lacie. You _have_ to admit it and convince Hermione that she was wrong to run off to McGonagall. The _Prophet_ ran an article last week about one of Wood's teammates falling off their broom and I bet it was some altruistic fan. Really. That makes more sense than a man whose face is plastered on every surface in Wizarding Britain.

Also Mum wrote to me about your family staying in the cottage over from my house. I wouldn't have thought that a _Malfoy_ would deign to downsize so much. Did you end up having Christmas dinner with my family? It's manic isn't it? I'm sort of sad that I missed it, but Harry wanted to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays. Actually, you're a Malfoy, you've probably been invited to some posh Christmas party and would rather eschew the traditional Weasley dinner. Never mind.

See you soon,

Ron.

x-x-x-x-x

 _ **Witch Weekly: Society**_

 _Do our eyes deceive us, or was Lucius Malfoy spotted leaving the cottage that Narcissa Malfoy is currently renting in Ottery St. Catchpole in the early hours of New Year's Day? It has been no secret to us at_ Witch Weekly _, that Lucius' fervent efforts in ascertaining justice for his son due to a Care of Magical Creatures class gone awry – for which, the Professor in charge has since been cleared of negligence charges – have warmed Narcissa's cool affections. Is this the start of Narcissa welcoming her husband back into the family fold following a summer of disgrace? Sources also report that the Malfoy patriarch was also spotted leaving the cottage on Christmas Day, following rumours that Malfoy presence was eschewed at important social functions, most notably, the Parkinson Christmas party [for more details, refer to our previous issue]._

 _Perhaps old love was re-ignited with a New Year's kiss at the stroke of midnight. This writer can almost hear hearts breaking at the thought of Lucius Malfoy being off the market soon, but was he ever on the market to begin with?_


	14. Blooms of Your Bearing

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling, and Arthur Conan Doyle.**

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve: Blooms of Your Bearing**

* * *

Precaution, indeed?  
Walls, ceiling, and floor,-not a chance for a weed!  
Wide opens the entrance: where's cold, now, where's gloom?

Robert Browning from _Natural Magic_

* * *

Draco was blowing on a hot spoonful of soup when Theodore Nott, king of all the pests, decided that it was the best time to knock his elbow for his attention. Soup spilled down Draco's front, making him look like a toddler who was unable to control a spoon. Draco did not even bother glaring at the boy, knowing that Theo would not be remorseful in the slightest. Draco simply sighed as he turned to face his friend and asked in a resigned voice, "What?"

Either, Theo, having spent three months during the previous term watching Draco eat with his other hand and was still not used to Draco having a left arm or he was simply being annoying. Draco knew it was most likely the latter, but noticed that Theo had tilted his head pointedly in the opposite direction. Draco's eyebrows knitted together as he turned to look at what Theo was gesturing at and he saw his sister pulling along her rather reluctant friend.

"Did you forget how to use a spoon?" Lacie asked with a smirk, when she had stopped in the space opposite him, "Someone should have told me that soup was the fashion accessory du jour."

Draco glared at Theo, who was hiding his face behind a napkin. He was also annoyed to see that his companions found her quip amusing and vanished the offending spillage. When he had finished he huffed, "What do you want, Lacie?"

"May we join you for dinner?"

Draco debated her question for a moment, wondering if this was one her quirks or if she was a practical joke. _Why is she doing this?_ Of course Draco could simply say no. He also remembered that the siblings had got on rather well over the holidays – bonding in their resentment that their father appeared several times at the family table. Some part of Draco wanted that peace to last. On the other hand, there were rules at Hogwarts and as well as Slytherin House. He could not bend those rules due to the whims of a sibling belonging their rival House. Even though the Malfoy name was as good as dirt, he still had a small reputation to uphold.

Draco was thankful when Theo answered for him, "This is a Slytherin table, Lacie."

"You said that I was an honorary Slytherin, Theo, remember?" Lacie said before adding, "Also, I did not ask _you_. I was asking my brother."

"You said that I was a brother to you," Theo replied with indignation, "You _are_ an honorary Slytherin, Lace. _She_ is not."

Draco's eyes flicked up for a moment to watch Hermione's reaction to being referred to as 'she'. Draco half-expected her to announce in her bossy tone that _she_ had a name, and that _she_ would rather he used it. Hermione, however, seemed unperturbed and was instead glowering at Lacie. Lacie looked at Draco with greater emphasis and Draco felt a small part of his backbone relent.

"Fine," Draco said with a slight groan. Lacie beamed at him, and practically jumped in the space in front of him. Hermione, on the other hand, looked shiftily around and Draco noticed that several students around them looked quite interested by the exchange. Draco stared at his soup in front of him.

"Well, _sit down_ ," Theo hissed at Hermione, "Seeing as our Lord Malfoy has granted his permission."

"I am _not_ a dog," Hermione replied, turning her ire towards Theo. "Lacie, this is quite ridiculous."

"Would you rather we sat and ate dinner in the toilets? Do you not remember the troll?" Lacie asked as she started putting food onto her plate. She looked over her shoulder imploringly at her friend who stared back but gave in and sat down. Hermione firmly crossed her arms and continued to glare at Lacie.

"If you are so unhappy with sitting here, you can always sit at your own table," Pansy snapped from further along the table.

"Worry about your own affairs, Pansy," Lacie replied in a deadpan voice. Pansy had clearly interrupted his twin's internal debate as to what vegetables she should add to her plate, and Lacie was holding in her annoyance. If Pansy knew better, she would stay quiet but as Draco knew too well, Pansy never knew better.

"Why are you even here, Lacerta?"

The answer to Pansy's question seemed to interest everyone as there was a distinct pause in eating around them. Lacie turned to Hermione, who had momentarily stopped glaring at her friend and uncrossed her arms. She bit the inside of her reddening cheek, and Draco noticed that she was getting slightly flustered.

"We are waiting," Theo prompted, and he suddenly jumped in the air with a yelp. "Kick me again, Lace, and I rescind honorary Slytherin privileges."

Lacie responded by smirking at Theo in a way that was reminded Draco of his mother. It was not a surprise to him that Theo blanched and seemed to shrink in his seat. Draco snorted with laughter for a moment and turned his attention back to Hermione, who was staring at the table in embarrassment. The girl was in luck, though, as she was saved from answering, due to a bat-like entity descending upon them. Everyone's attention had turned towards the High Table, and watched as Professor Snape marched towards them with an inscrutable look upon his face that did not bode well.

"Miss Malfoy, _what_ are you doing?" Professor Snape asked as he stood behind Draco. Anyone that had not been curious that Lacie had decided to sit with her brother for dinner, was now most certainly curious. Lavender Brown, who was sitting on the opposite side of the Hall where one would usually find a Gryffindor during mealtimes, was almost standing up to inspect the confrontation.

Lacie carefully placed her cutlery on the table, patted her mouth with a napkin before answering, "I am eating, Professor Snape, but you should not be too concerned about me because Pansy over there is positively _having kittens._ "

At that, Hermione snorted into a goblet of pumpkin juice, drawing disdainful looks from everyone around her. Draco looked at the pair of them, wondering what on earth they were so amused about, or what it meant to _have kittens_. Pansy blushed a violent shade of red at the retort, and ducked behind a pitcher of water. Theo raised a carefully placed hand in front of his mouth to conceal his smirk at the proceedings.

"I believe you can eat at your own table," the Potions Master said, brushing aside her comment. Neither amusement nor annoyance was expressed upon his face.

"Can I not eat with my own brother?" Lacie asked with a hint of a whine. Draco bit the inside of his cheek to stop him from smiling, their godfather did not take well to petulance, especially in front of an audience. Lacie knew this, but still continued.

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes and surveyed Draco and his sister, "Since when were you not at each other's throats?"

Before Draco could reply, Lacie spoke over him, "What has that got to do with the price of fish?"

Draco frowned at her as she then turned to Hermione and asked, "That is still technically correct, is it not? Am I allowed to use any noun for that phrase?"

Hermione rolled her eyes but then nodded, but Draco had no idea what they were discussing or if it was still proper English. A flicker of amusement seemed to flit across Professor Snape's face but he said with finality, "You are to eat at the _Gryffindor_ table in the future until I can ascertain that you are not about to embark on the Second Great Food Fight, is that understood?"

Lacie nodded, picking up her fork and resuming to eat. The Potions Master swept away and back to the High Table but then paused behind Pansy and said in a low but audible whisper, "Congratulations on your kittens."

Millicent choked on her food, Greg guffawed lowly and Blaise dropped his coffee cup with a clatter. Vince swore as the hot liquid splashed him, and he knocked into Cordelia, who scowled at him. Other students around them simply looked stunned, aside from Hermione, who looked merely bored. Lacie also looked bored as she picked up her fork and continued eating. Draco realised that his mouth had fallen open and promptly shut it.

"Who would have known that Professor Snape had a sense of humour?" Tracey asked incredulously as she nudged Pansy who had gone so red that Draco worried for a moment that she may explode.

"Yes, it is a shock to all," Theo snapped, "Blaise, did you lose all of your faculties? There is coffee everywhere."

Draco watched as Hermione stiffened and pointed at Lacie before growling, "Don't"

"There is no use crying over spilt milk – or in this case – coffee," Lacie said with a grin.

"What is wrong with you?" Draco asked, turning to face his sister, "Did you get Confunded?"

"No," Hermione replied before sighing, "I thought it would be funny to give Lacie a book on Muggle idioms for Christmas. Now, I wish she would stop dropping them into every conversation."

"Not for all the tea in China," Lacie added with a grin.

Draco rolled his eyes as Hermione hissed at Lacie to stop and Draco was grateful that his sister started eating again but with a mischievous glint in her eye. The food in her mouth would stop her babbling for the time being.

"Did you really think a book on Muggle idioms was really appropriate?" Draco asked Hermione with a small smile. Noticing Theo staring at their interaction, Draco looked away. He had to remember to pretend that he was not her friend in Slytherin company, and even the faintest notion of warmth would give his secret away. Draco forced an emotionless mask upon his face before looking back at Hermione. Now she was looking at him with curiosity, but she seemed to shake it off quickly.

"She gave me a tome on pureblood Wizarding customs and what seems to be an encyclopaedia on the Malfoy history," Hermione replied dryly and turned to his sister, "By the way, my current favourite Malfoy is Rosamund Malfoy."

"I think I speak for Draco as well as myself, when I say that I am positively offended by that statement," Lacie said when she had finished chewing.

"Contribute to the ongoing development for the cure to dragonpox, and you might be a serious contender," Hermione countered as she reached for a bread roll. It seemed that the girl was finally convinced that the food on the table was not poisoned.

"And our esteemed Lord Malfoy?" Theo asked, with a slight nudge to Draco's arm.

Hermione chewed on her bread roll contemplatively "I think Malfoy would violently throw up over this spread if I were to imply that he would ever be my favourite Malfoy, and when he had finished he would comment that he would not need the approval of a disgusting Mudblood like me to prove his superiority."

Draco resisted a smirk at her appraisal and simply muttered, "Insufferable know-it-all."

"You're just annoyed that I know you _that_ well," she retorted with a smile. Draco felt his stomach drop in response, and if Theo's gaze was not burning into the side of his head, it surely was now. He could almost hear the boy's thoughts. _What does she mean? How_ well _does she know you? Is there something that you are not telling me?_ Those were questions that Draco did not wish to answer or be forced to answer. Blaise looked mildly interested at the comment that she had made, but had probably passed it off as a figure of speech. Draco knew that Theo seemed to take everything with a pinch of salt, but Draco knew how to handle him.

Draco responded to her statement the only way that he knew how. With a well-placed familial sneer, he told her that a summer with his family did not entitle her to have such an opinion. The girl's smile dropped from her face and she blushed and fixated upon a goblet. Draco could feel waves of self-satisfaction roll off Theo.

"Draco, you really are incorrigible," Lacie said, after a while, without looking up to him. It was as if he was being lectured by his own mother.

"And yet, you chose to sit with me for dinner," Draco replied, "Even if the company of Potter and Weasley had become tiresome, why have you chosen to sit so far away from the Gryffindor Table?"

There was a distinct silence at the table. It was a question that had long been evaded, and the girls looked at each other for a moment, with Lacie subtly prompting her friend to answer. Hermione looked resigned and pursed her lips, as if wondering how to string the worlds together in a sentence. Draco felt slightly amused by the encounter. Hermione rarely struggled to answer a question posed towards her.

"Harry got a Firebolt for Christmas, and I was the reason why it got confiscated," Hermione finally sighed.

Draco thought he had misheard her for a moment, but when he saw that the Slytherins around him were whispering at the news, he realised that he had heard correctly the first time. He felt the blood drain from his face. _Potter has a Firebolt? Does Flint know?_ Draco's immediate reaction when he had fully processed the news and its implications was to turn towards where the upper-years were sat. He wondered if his team captain had heard the news, and it seemed so, as he saw Flint and his deputy, Warrington, engaged in a furious conversation.

Ignoring the potential crisis that Potter now had the best broom on the market, along with his annoyingly natural skill as a Seeker, Draco turned back to Hermione. The girl was staring at him with curiosity.

"Are you sure it was a Firebolt?" Draco said, fixing a nonplussed expression on his face. His nonchalance was hard to fake, and he felt like storming out of the Great Hall and practising every spare second that he had. He also, for his team's sake, had to be sure that it was true. Hermione was useless when it came to Quidditch and flying, and even though it was not like her, she could be wrong.

"Judging by how Ronald Weasley is telling everyone in Gryffindor that I have utterly scuppered their chances of winning the Quidditch Cup, I would hope it was actually a Firebolt," the girl replied bitterly.

 _How stupid can Weasley get? Or the rest of the Gryffindors for believing him?_

"Draco, you can breathe easily now, as Potter is not currently in possession of a Firebolt," Theo said tightly before laughing quietly under his breath. Draco glared at his friend, who promptly returned to his dinner.

"Weasley is stupider than I thought he was," Blaise said, paraphrasing aloud what Draco had just thought. "Everyone know that Professor McGonagall would rather drink Bubotuber pus than watch Slytherin win the Quidditch Cup."

"Why did you get it confiscated in the first place?" Theo asked suddenly.

At that, Hermione reddened and replied so quietly that Draco had to strain his ears to listen. "Because it didn't come with a note, and I thought that it had been sent by…"

 _She thought it had been sent by Sirius Black._

Draco resisted a retort regarding her constant interfering, do-gooding behaviour. First she had dragged Draco into researching ways to stop his father's vendetta against the Hippogriff that had attacked him, and now her company was being forced upon him because she had gone out of her way to _save_ Potter from himself. The whole school already had to suffer with the presence of those Dementors because of Black's and every other wizard's obsession with Potter.

 _Maybe they should rename Potter and start calling him the Boy-Who-Constantly-Needs-Saving instead._

"Are you sure he did not just buy it for himself? He is out of a broom, you know," Blaise asked, interrupting Draco's thoughts. "I would not be surprised that he faked buying it for himself and making it seem like it was sent to him by a fan, he is quite the attention _seeker_."

Draco chortled at the allusion in Blaise's words. Hermione looked rather smug with herself before answering in her rather annoying _because-I-know-everything_ tone of voice.

"Harry isn't like that and I know it because I've seen how much that broom costs - …"

Theo snorted into his goblet at the comment and Hermione stopped speaking. When he had placed it back onto the table, he turned to the girl and asked, "Do you not know how wealthy your friend is?"

Draco judged by her furrowing eyebrows and the second appearance of an inability to answer questions, that Hermione Granger did not know this asinine fact. Then again, how many people would directly ask someone how much money their families had? In the wizarding world, these things seemed to be common knowledge and no one really asked. Draco supposed that if anyone on the outside looked at Harry with his oversized clothing, one would project the stereotype of a poor orphan boy onto him. Even Lacie seemed mildly intrigued at Hermione's bewilderment, but brushed it aside.

"What does it matter?" Lacie asked Theo dismissively, attempting to steer the conversation away from Hermione's lack of knowledge of Wizarding society gossip.

"You knew?" Hermione asked, turning towards Draco's twin, a twinge of annoyance colouring her tone.

"Of course she knew," Theo interjected airily, "You forget that, until a few years ago, Lacie was trained in the art of socialising with the oldest and most noble of Wizarding families, and that includes being knowledgeable about the entirety of their affairs."

Several emotions flitted across Hermione's face, starting with disbelief. She studied her friend, who was pretending that she had not heard Theo's explanation. Draco knew that Hermione was analysing every encounter that she had ever had with Lacie, and would soon recall the first time that she had ever met Lacie. The girl did little to conceal the realisation across her face as she remembered being asked if she was related to a famous Potioneer, as well as Lacie's quick recognition of who Hermione was helping. Finally, the girl looked troubled as she mulled over her thoughts. Lacie on the other hand, looked angelic and innocent as she ate.

At first glance, one would not have thought she was an encyclopaedia of Wizarding customs and knowledge.

"Penny?" Draco asked kindly. Hermione's brown eyes focused on him, as if searching for an answer in his grey eyes.

"If the Potters were such an old and respected family, why aren't they on that list? The Sacred Twenty-Eight?"

"There were rumours that at some point… an integration occurred and it diluted the blood purity."

There was a soft snort, "Of course."

"Did you expect anything different?"

"No, in fact, I feel slightly annoyed that I didn't think of that as a possibility."

"How foolish of you," Draco said with a smile, but when all he saw was a perplexed look on Hermione's face, it was as if a spell had broken. For a moment, he had forgotten he was in the company of his Housemates. Draco realised that the side of him that he usually reserved for Hermione had spilled out at the dinner table. He quickly replaced the smile on his face with a scowl and added, "I guess you do not know everything, after all."

The girl visibly bristled, and Draco hated himself for it. He would not be surprised if Hermione refused to talk to him in the library after this encounter. Even Draco was irritated by his own actions. He really needed to be in better control of himself. He looked over at Lacie who was staring at him, as if trying to deduce a complicated problem. Draco could almost hear his sister's voice blare in his mind.

 _Draco, what_ are _you doing?_

"Fine, what don't I know about Harry, or his family?"

Draco turned to Theo, prompting his friend to answer. Theo sighed dramatically, and rolled his eyes before taking an exaggerated gulp of water from his goblet again. Once he had drained a considerable amount, he smacked his lips together and drew his lips into a smile.

"Well, there is some speculation that the Potter estate rivals the prestigious Malfoy Manor," Theo said, before casting a look at Draco. Draco scoffed.

"I doubt Hermione wants to listen to rumour and hearsay," Lacie interjected, "Hermione only believes in facts, and since no one has seen the Potter estate in over half a century, I would happily dispute your comment."

"You and your brother are only sceptical because the idea of someone having a bigger estate than the Malfoys positively abhors you," Theo replied mockingly.

"Personally, I am surprised you would even suggest that Harry had something better than Draco, are you not afraid of him gnawing your ear off about how offensive that is?" Lacie countered.

"Slanderous chit, dare I insult our Lord Malfoy in front of our honoured dinner guests?"

Draco narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Would you stop calling me Lord Malfoy? It is becoming tiresome."

"Oh," Theo started in mock affront, "So you allow Granger over there to call you Lord Malfoy but not your best friend?"

"That was a bet that…" Draco's explanation tailed off as he felt someone rap him on the shoulder. Draco turned and saw Bletchley boring his eyes into him.

"Malfoy, Flint is calling an emergency team meeting," he said, before turning onto his heel and stalking off. Any hint of colour that had appeared in his face in the past ten minutes swiftly drained again. Draco patted his mouth gently with a napkin and coolly turned towards Theo.

"Make sure that my covers are turned down on my return, Theodore," Draco said, almost channelling his father speaking to a house-elf.

Draco saw a look of annoyance appear on the profile of Theo's face, and he did not turn to look at him as he said, "I know you like to think it, but I am not actually your servant."

Draco stood up and patted Theo on the shoulder, "I must be mistaken, I thought I was your esteemed Lord Malfoy."

The look on Theo's face was one that kept Draco smirking through the emergency meeting that Flint was holding.

x-x-x-x-x

"I'm sorry."

Harry jumped several inches to the right as Hermione walked next to him. It was one of those rare occasions where Hermione managed to be able to speak to Harry alone. He always seemed to be glued beside Ron, or huddled with the Gryffindor boys in their year. As chance would have it, Oliver Wood had chosen precisely that moment to stop Harry and tell him that he was on his way to Transfiguration to ask about the Firebolt. Ron had fortunately rushed ahead with the rest of the Gryffindor boys, determined to not be late for the prospect of a scintillating lesson without Flobberworms.

"Hermione!" Harry said, as soon as he had caught his breath. "Where did you come from?"

"I've been walking behind you," Hermione lied hastily and Harry didn't seem too convinced. Fortunately for Hermione, Harry didn't question her further.

"I must have not noticed you, then," Harry said quietly, and for a moment they walked to their next class together in silence.

Hermione broke it by saying, more indignant than she had intended, "You're too angry at me to care for my presence, I suppose."

Harry stopped suddenly, but Hermione kept walking. They had only a few minutes left before they were truly late for the lesson, and even though they knew Hagrid, Hermione doubted he would be too pleased if they were late for his class.

"Hermione," Hermione heard Harry call out. At that, Hermione stopped and turned to see Harry still standing where he had stopped. When he had somewhat gathered his wits, he slowly walked towards her, struggling under the weight of his bulging bag on the frosty grass. Of course, Hermione doubted that Harry carried around as many books as she did, and he probably threw them in haphazardly, giving it the illusion that the bag was stuffed with books. When he had reached her, Hermione looked up at him expectantly and he opened his mouth to say something. Thinking better of it, Harry carried on walking towards their Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

For a moment, Hermione felt her eyes sting and she willed herself to not cry. She had hoped in the back of her mind that Harry would also apologise for how he had acted, or showed some sort of understanding as to why she did what she did. Lacie had told her that Harry had apologised to her for stomping away before Christmas, and that he wouldn't go looking for trouble. He even told her that he didn't want to go looking for Sirius Black, and that he would knuckle down and concentrate on how to manage Dementors. It had seemed inevitable that Harry would approach her to show the same compassion and understanding. However, so far, he only seemed to ignore her in classes and stayed silent when Ron snapped at her.

Hermione daren't even warn Harry from taking his secret lessons from Professor Lupin, too, or else Ron and he would be tipped over the edge. As Hagrid directed them to put their bags in the shelter that he had constructed outside of his cabin, Hermione wondered how many hints she would have to drop before Harry would realise it. Ever since that essay that Professor Snape had set, Hermione had been wary.

The first alarm bell was why Professor Snape was teaching them about werewolves so suddenly. Hermione knew that there was some other reason for it.

The second alarm bell happened when Hermione started noticing that Professor Lupin's health declined on a monthly basis. It wasn't difficult to notice it, as Hermione meticulously charted her own monthly cycle so as not to be caught surprised in the middle of a class. It was one of the side effects of her usage of the Time-Turner, she was careful not to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She could not risk running into the Common Room, halfway through a class and for people to notice that she would be in two places at the same time or even crossing herself an hour later. However, Hermione noticed that Professor Lupin would appear paler than usual for a few days before disappearing entirely for precisely two days. Once he returned, he was slightly perkier but this never lasted long. A week would pass and his health would start deteriorating again.

This had happened since the beginning of term, but it wasn't until Professor Snape's unwelcome appearance in their Defence Against the Dark Arts classes where Hermione started to write down when she predicted when Professor Lupin would be ill. Hermione wasn't a fan of surprises, and an extra dosage of the dour Professor Snape was one she could do without. Whilst Harry and Ron weren't speaking to her, Hermione started scribbling in her notes for her new day planner and it wasn't long before she noticed a pattern. Her parents always bought her a new planner for Christmas, but this one in particular charted the moon's position in the sky, and then it hit her.

 _Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth._

At first, Hermione didn't believe it, or want to believe it. Was Professor Dumbledore mad? Surely the Headmaster of her school would know about his new Professor. Hermione debated it, Professor Dumbledore wasn't aware that Professor Quirrell had another head under his turban or that Professor Lockhart – as much as Hermione hated to admit it – was a fraud.

It explained everything.

 _Professor Lupin was a werewolf._

 _Harry was going to be alone with Professor Lupin._

Hermione only hoped that they wouldn't be having a lesson towards the end of the month.

She was also thankful that the class didn't involve another batch of Flobberworms that she had to feed over the duration of the class. During this particularly wintry Care of Magical Creatures lesson, they were to scavenge twigs and sticks to keep the bonfire that Hagrid had lit in front of his house going. Fire Salamanders merrily scampered in and out of the fire, welcoming anyone who would add to the heat. At least this class involved traipsing around the grounds and not sitting and waiting for something to do something, and Hermione didn't have to talk to anyone. Not that anyone was likely to talk to her, the pariah that she was.

Hagrid did though, but only to gruffly tell her the date that he was going to the Ministry with Buckbeak and to thank her for the stack of notes she had given him. After that small exchange, Hermione was left alone to gather her own sticks, and stood in solitary in front of the bonfire.

"Hello."

Hermione turned to the person who was standing next to her, and noted that he was holding out several long branches.

"Olive branch?" Hermione asked with a small smile.

"I beg your pardon?"

Hermione looked away, focusing on the fire in front of her and the smile fading from her face, "Nothing. What do you want, Zabini?"

"I noticed that you had ran out of sticks to burn, and since our Lord Malfoy thinks its beneath him to collect wood like a peasant and has dismissed this lesson, I thought I would offer our collective efforts to you," the Slytherin replied, holding out the branches towards Hermione. Hermione reached out, and Zabini dumped them into her arms.

"Thank you," Hermione said, and she promptly began adding the branches to the fire. She watched as the flames engulfed the branches and smiled at the appreciative noises the salamanders made.

"You seem to enjoy this."

Hermione looked up, surprised to see Zabini still stood next to her and her smile drooped slightly. She continued to drop the sticks into the bonfire and said, "I suppose it reminds me of when I was little."

"You were an infant pyromaniac?" Zabini asked, with an expression on his face that was a cross between confusion and scepticism.

At that, Hermione laughed.

"No, before all of _this_ ," Hermione said, gesturing around herself and twirling a stick for emphasis, "My parents would take me camping every other Easter holiday or Bank Holiday weekends, and we would light a bonfire almost every night and cook our dinner off it and roast marshmallows… which was _always_ a treat because they're dentists and…"

Hermione paused, realising that she had said too much to him. As far as she was aware, Zabini was part of Malfoy's group of friends that were really offended at her presence at Hogwarts because of her heritage. Hermione bit her lip, wondering what to say next, with the knowledge that Zabini probably didn't care or want to know what she used to do with her relatively ordinary parents. He probably didn't even know what a _dentist_ was.

"That sounds rather lovely," he said after a while, most likely after processing what Hermione had said. His eyes seemed to indicate that what she had said was the opposite of lovely and his lips were pressed in a hard line as he stared into the flames.

"You don't have to be nice," Hermione said meekly.

"Actually I do," Zabini replied, his lips pulling up into the faintest of smiles, "Flint issued an edict that granted you a temporary reprieve."

Hermione's mouth fell open, and this greatly amused Zabini. When she regained control of her jaw, she tried to speak but it only came out in a series of stutters.

"I-I… I."

"You should see Pansy's kittens."

Hermione tried hard not to laugh, but made a noise that sounded like a choked cough. When she had composed herself enough, she tried to plant the most serious look on her face and stared as clearly as she could into Zabini's eyes so as to get her point across.

"I did _not_ tell Professor McGonagall about Harry's Firebolt to get a reprieve from Slytherins."

Zabini raised an eyebrow, "Why not?"

Hermione felt affronted at the question and snapped, "Because Harry is my friend."

The Slytherin looked across the bonfire, where the rest of the Gryffindors were huddled. Hermione followed his gaze, and saw Ron glaring straight back at them. Hermione looked straight down and dropped the rest of the bundle she was holding into the fire.

"Some friend."

Hermione looked up at Zabini with a frown firmly planted on her face, "You're one to talk, you're only talking to me because someone told you to be nice to me."

Zabini seemed nonplussed with that statement, as if to as her, _why else would anyone want to talk to you?_

Hermione tried to brush off his response and added, "Also, you and your group of Slytherins are only friends with Malfoy because you're -…"

Zabini held his hand up to interrupt her and replied airily, "There are people in this world that you have to play nice to, regardless of whether or not you want to."

"But wouldn't you rather be friends with someone you liked?"

Zabini regarded her as the question hung in the icy air before sneering at her and turning onto his heel. Hermione watched as he walked back to the Slytherins. He lazily threw one end of his green and silver scarf over his shoulder as snowflakes started to fall. No one, it seemed, had noticed that he had left or that he had just spend the past ten or so minutes talking to her. However, he eased his way back into the group easily as he smiled at something Runcorn and Davies said to him.

 _It must be lonely, to be a Slytherin._

Hermione snorted quietly at the thought.

 _They all have each other, in some way or another._

"I guess we all know why you went to McGonagall," Hermione heard someone say. She turned and saw that Ron, and the rest of the Gryffindor boys had gathered by the fire and were adding to the bonfire. Neville, Hermione was relieved to see, looked uncomfortable and stood behind the group. He offered Hermione a small smile. Harry, on the other hand, was determinedly looking away.

"And why is that?"

"You're one of them now, _snake_ ," Ron replied in an arrogant tone, his blue eyes set in a fierce glower. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from retorting angrily or crying. She would not cry in front of Ronald Weasley, or the rest of the class for that matter.

Hermione composed herself for a moment and looked at Harry, who still wasn't looking at her.

"And what do you think, Harry?"

Harry turned to face her with emotionless eyes and simply said, "I think that Hagrid wants to round up this lesson."

He turned around and walked away, taking the rest of the Gryffindor boys with him. Neville was the only one who gave her a backwards glance and an apologetic look.

Suddenly, the squealing of the salamanders did not seem so enjoyable anymore.

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry that this is so late! I just started school again, and all my lovely readers will know that me + school = lack of time to update. I honestly do appreciate all the reviews that I've been getting in the meantime, as it does remind me that I need to get my lazy arse to write/edit/update and the other odds and ends._

 _I can almost hear some naysayers write and tell me "surely wizards must know Muggle idioms", I do think they have but at the same time may have adapted them to make sense in their society ie. "Not for all the Galleons in Gringotts" or "Pansy is positively having Kneazles/Crups"._

 _As usual, happy reading._

 _CSxo._


	15. Does Truth Sound Bitter?

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen: Does Truth Sound Bitter?**

* * *

To-morrow we meet the same then, dearest?  
May I take your hand in mine?  
Mere friends are we,-well, friends the merest  
Keep much that I resign:

Robert Browning from _The Lost Mistress_

* * *

A low whistle sounded around the grounds, and Draco could see one of the Beaters – Derrick or Bole – gesture downwards. Upon inspection, he could see that all the players were heading towards the ground. It seemed that one of the team captains had called for a time-out, and it was a small relief in an otherwise miserable game. Draco leaned forwards, his broom following his instruction quickly, and slowly descended. Once he was merely feet off the ground, he jumped off his broomstick and landed gently on the frozen grass. Draco rubbed his hands together, suddenly grateful that his sister had given him new dragonhide Quidditch gloves for Christmas, blowing warm air on his icy fingers. He only wished that his Quidditch kit was also made of it, or had better insulation. He had been freezing in the bitter January air.

At this rate, he was lucky if he could bend his fingers around a Snitch as they were frozen stiff.

Draco felt a shove to his shoulder, and as he looked to see who it had been, he saw Flint breathing down at him.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?"

Draco glared at his captain, recovering from the shove and stepped towards Flint, "What do you mean, what am I doing?"

"You know that Chang is an offensive player, and you are letting her be one," Flint growled. "Knock her off her broom if she gets in your way."

"That would be fouling," Draco said through gritted teeth. Seeing that Flint was not satisfied with that response, Draco added, "But I will find a way."

"Good," Flint replied. "Now I need to have a word with our Keeper."

"Why?"

Flint raised an eyebrow, as if to question Draco's insolence but sighed instead and said, "We are neck-and-neck with Ravenclaw."

Draco nodded curtly, "I will deal with Chang."

"Good," Flint repeated, before stomping over to their Keeper. Bletchley visibly paled as Flint stormed towards him. The rest of his teammates jumped out of Flint's way.

Draco stared across the pitch towards the Ravenclaw players. Chang was listening to the Ravenclaw captain, nodding as he spoke to her. _You know that Chang is an offensive player_. So far in the game, Chang had been less intrusive than she had been during the Hufflepuff game. She had kept her distance, but as soon as it seemed as if Draco was onto something, she was right in front of him and blocking his path. At one point, Draco was so absorbed in looking for the Snitch himself, he had not noticed when Chang dived for the Snitch. However, as Chang was forced to dodge a perfectly aimed Bludger, she soon lost track of it.

Draco was surprised that Flint had not pulled him up for that infraction.

 _Knock her off her broom if she gets in your way_.

Draco knew all the rules of Quidditch, and he was almost certain that knocking someone off their broom would incur a penalty for his team, not that Flint particularly cared about breaking the rules. Draco also knew that sometimes the benefit of breaking the rules was so that the other team – namely, Gryffindors – lost their temper and therefore lost focus in the game. However, Ravenclaw was a house of level-headed people, who argued both sides of the argument rather than losing their temper. Knocking Chang off her broom would do little to knock her team's morale, so handing over a penalty to Ravenclaw did not seem like the brightest idea, especially if Bletchley carried on conceding goals.

 _They could lose focus if their own player committed a foul._

The idea came to Draco as the whistled sounded again, signalling play resuming, and Draco mounted his broom. It was so simple. Whilst it was true that Ravenclaws were innovators and regularly thought outside the box, they disliked the idea of breaking a rule without academic or philosophical merit. Breaking a Quidditch rule in particular would be considered brutish to them as it implied a sort of an unnecessary violence. Ravenclaws fought with their intelligence and wit, not their fists.

 _Chang is an offensive player._

Draco did not even have to turn around to know that Chang was tailing him, putting him on the defensive again. A flicker of annoyance ran through Draco, and he soon remembered his captain's warning. During the last game, Chang had relied on distracting Diggory to drive up the point margin between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, which is why they ultimately won the game. Since Slytherin and Ravenclaw were matching each other for goals, the Ravenclaw was simultaneously tracking him and the Snitch to end the game briskly. If Chang was intent on following him, then he would give her a good chase.

Draco pulled on his broom firmly, braking him in mid-air and looked around the sky and changed course. He could almost hear Chang behind him, chasing him as he zigzagged through the sky. He could hear the slight whistle of an aimed Bludger approach him and he dodged it at the last moment, as he mimicked Diggory and abruptly pulled his broom up and around and carried on in the opposite direction. He laughed as Jordan made a flippant comment about Draco's unoriginality for copying Diggory's move from the last game.

Except, Draco was not chasing a Snitch.

If he was, there was no way that Chang, on her outdated Cleansweep, would outfly his Nimbus. Draco urged his broom on through the skies, but at a pace that would match Chang. He had only travelled several hundred yards before he could hear her coming at him from the side, in an attempt to block him again.

This time, he would not stop for her.

This was the part of the game that he enjoyed the most, the part where the wind raked through his fine hair as he hurried through the skies, the wind slapping his cheeks until they were red raw and the rush of adrenaline as he artfully eluded everything that the Ravenclaw Beaters were sending his way. Draco peeked to his right.

Chang was nearing him, and had changed course slightly so that she would appear in front of him to block him and he would have to veer off course to avoid her. Lowering himself towards his broom, he urged his broomstick on, speeding up ever so slightly so that Chang would not notice the difference in speed and alter her course. When she did notice it, she would have little time – or, in Draco's opinion, skill – to stop the collision. Draco braced himself for…

He was tumbling, hundreds of feet in the air. She had unseated him as they collided together and he was falling and falling, and falling. His broomstick lay lifeless in his right hand and he hurtled downwards. His ears burned at the change in altitude.

 _Get back on your broom!_

He somewhat gathered his wits together and struggled against gravity as he reached for his broom with his other hand to try and sit on it again. Professor Dumbledore did not deign to appear at this Quidditch game, and he was less sure that his godfather would prevent him from becoming a Malfoy pancake if Draco did not act quick enough. He reached for his broom again, his stiff fingertips barely grazing his Nimbus before slipping away. Professor Snape would probably say that Draco deserved any injuries he received, just as he had with the Hippogriff and would let it happen, regardless of what his mother would say.

 _Stop it with the internal chatter and get back on your broom!_

As soon as his managed to grip his broom with his other hand, the Nimbus halted its fall and righted itself in the air, jerking slightly and Draco struggled to stay gripped onto his broom. When his broom had settled, Draco glanced down and saw that he was dangling only twenty feet or so above from the ground. Feeling his heart race under his Quidditch uniform, he closed his eyes and laughed in relief. There would be no Malfoy pancake served during this game. He could feel his grip loosening, and pulled himself onto his broom again eliciting cheers from the other end of the pitch. He could hear boos from above him, and just _knew_ where he had landed.

He rose, and could see a sea of faces hanging over the stands and in the masses of crimson stood a single supporter in emerald. He steered his broom over to the edge and saw that his sister had red finger marks on her cheeks where she had been gripping them tightly.

"Are you alright?" she frantically asked over the increasing boos.

"Just about," Draco replied, he looked over at the rest of the Gryffindors and saw Hermione's nose in a book. She looked up for a moment before raising an eyebrow at him.

"Don't you have a game to play?"

Draco, uncharacteristically even for him, winked at her and replied, "I have a game to _win_."

That was an unpopular thing to say by the Gryffindor stands, as the boos got louder and more aggressive to Draco's satisfaction. He soared off, ready to do a lap around the Quidditch pitch. Flint caught up with him and gruffly told him that Draco had earned them a penalty, and the now flustered Ravenclaws had since allowed another goal. Slytherin were now twenty points above their opponents.

"Now, get that Snitch so we can end this sometime this century, Malfoy," Flint called after him as Draco started to drift away. He nodded at his Captain and raced away into the air.

It was not long before Chang was near him again, and Draco could sense her hesitancy to follow him or give chase.

"Keeping your distance, Chang?" Draco catcalled, and he was met with a surly expression.

"You're a dirty player, Malfoy."

"Me? I was not the one who just committed a foul."

"You flew into my path on purpose," Chang said with a bitter edge to her tone.

"Why would I purposefully get myself knocked off my broom?" Draco asked, fighting the faintest tug to move his lips into a smile. "I could have died."

"You know as well as I do that you wouldn't have _died_."

Draco could hear the faintest of buzzing near him, and he could almost feel his heart stop. His breathing hitched for the smallest of seconds before he forced himself to act and behave normally. Ever since that first game, the one with Potter and where the Snitch had been buzzing next to his ear, Draco had forced himself to train in listening to the faintest of sounds around him. It was why he could hear Chang chase him, or the subtle noises a Bludger made as one was hit in his direction. It was that attention that he now paid to his surroundings that made all the difference, and was what was going to make the difference now.

Chang was momentarily distracted as Ravenclaw scored a goal, and Draco saw a thin smile appear on her face. Now that Draco knew that the Snitch was nearby, he was just going to have to use Chang's tactic against her.

"How did you know that I would not have died?" Draco asked quickly, pulling in Chang's attention. Chang snorted and she turned towards him.

"Because you have a flair for the dramatics, just like your sister."

Draco might have been listening for the small sounds of the Snitch, but he could not miss the hint of bitterness that coloured the last part of her sentence. He smirked.

"Are you jealous of Lacie?"

Chang's brows furrowed at him and she asked, "Why would I be jealous of her?"

Draco let go of his broom, crossed his arms and shrugged at her. The buzzing was starting to get slightly louder and he tried to be dismissive as he looked over his shoulder. He blinked, as the Snitch was still nowhere in sight. He could definitely _hear_ it.

 _Maybe you are imagining it?_

Draco turned back to face Chang and simply replied with, "Diggory."

At that Chang reddened and huffed at him, "Of course, you think because I am a _girl_ , the only possible reason I could potentially be jealous of your sister is because of a _boy_."

Draco blinked at her and smirked, "Chang, I think you are going greener than my robes."

"Why would I be jealous of an -…"

Chang never got the chance to describe what Lacie was, as a faint glimmer of gold flashed in front of them. Draco inhaled sharply. Sounds dissipated, and he could not hear a thing. He could see recognition appear in Chang's eyes. He reached out instinctively, and grinned as he felt the smooth metal in his fingers. Chang's nails scratched his hands as she grasped at thin air in vain. His stomach tightened and loosened as he felt the resistance of the flutter in the palm of his hand.

What was a matter of seconds had felt like hours. Draco could see the shock and disappointment on Chang's face.

When it seemed like he could breathe again, sounds flooded around him and he could hear a high-pitched whistle and an enormous chorus of boos. Draco did not care for the disapproval as he grinned at his opponent and offered her his other hand. Chang flew off in annoyance, and again, Draco did not care for her. He swooped, raising the hand that was still clasped around the Snitch in the air, joining his teammates as they lapped around the pitch in victory.

Draco caught his Captain's eye as they flew in formation, and he did not seem too pleased with the win.

 _It was a win, but only narrowly._

 _They would have to do better next time._

x-x-x-x-x

"I need your help."

"No."

Hermione didn't need to look up to see who it was as she could recognise that tenor or arrogance anywhere. It was the voice of someone who had been nagging her every time that she had stepped a single toe in the library. It was the voice that followed her from several classes, always asking for help or an opinion. Hermione didn't know at what point Blaise Zabini considered her an acquaintance or a tutor, but she wished she could go back in time and convince him otherwise. Her fingers playfully reached for her shirt, where underneath was the small Time-Turner she wore everywhere.

 _Bad things happen to those who meddle with time for their personal gain._

If Draco hadn't snuck a note to her asking her if she wanted to study that night, she wouldn't have come to the library.

"Please."

"No."

There was a scraping noise as the chair opposite to her was pulled backwards and Zabini fell into it. From the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed that one of the books on the top of one of her piles had been picked up by her unwanted companion.

"Why are you reading this?"

Hermione looked up. As best as she could in her tiredness, she glared at Zabini before replying, "Because I take Divination."

She held out her hand, and Zabini dropped the book into it. Hermione replaced it onto the stack of books for the homework she was yet to complete. She returned to her work with vigour, hoping that Zabini would take the hint.

"Do you take every subject they had to offer?"

"Not every single one, I was told Alchemy is a NEWT level subject."

"Do you even sleep?"

Hermione stopped writing. It was a question that was posed in jest, Hermione knew that, but it was the first time in a long time that someone had commented on her welfare. The rest of her housemates assumed that part of Hermione's routine, overtaxing herself. They had known her for almost three years, and they only knew Hermione as an overachiever who worked too hard on her work, and they usually left her to it. Only Lacie could or would drag her away from her books. However, even Lacie seemed too busy to notice her as of late. Diggory had given her tougher work, and when she wasn't working on her schoolwork, she was practising piano or fixing and breaking in ballet shoes. It seemed that she only saw her best friend during classes.

She was also lucky if Harry and Ron would give her the time of day. They were still convinced that Hermione was trying to sabotage them.

Not that, now that she was surrounded in piles of books and reading, Hermione cared. February had arrived suddenly, and even though she had an abundance of time resting on her chest, there never seemed to be enough time to get things done, let alone sleep.

"I get enough," Hermione answered curtly. "Can you leave me alone now?"

"I am not leaving until you help me with my Rune translation."

"Fine," Hermione snapped and glowered at him, "I will help you with your Ancient Runes."

"Really?"

"Really. If you go down three bookshelves and turn left, there are some Rune dictionaries that may help."

Zabini chortled. Hermione paid little attention to him as she returned to her work. Zabini's distraction had caused her to mark a moon in the wrong place. She could feel her temper rise as she reached for her wand to erase the offending mistake. She forced herself to swallow her irritation, before she ended up burning a hole in her work.

"Funny. Granger, now -…" Zabini said before pausing, "Malfoy, what are you doing here?"

At that, Hermione did look up. Draco looked as collected as ever, and Hermione envied him for it. His workload may not have been as intense as hers, but he still had more on his plate than most students in their year. Lacie did too, but Merlin forbid a Malfoy have a hair out of place or dark circles under their eyes. It was no secret that Hermione envied the pair, but this envy soon turned into confusion as Draco didn't even glance in her direction.

 _Why would he? He pretends as if you aren't friends outside of this section of this library… unless one of his_ proper _friends was here._

Hermione chased that bitter train of thought away.

"I thought that this might be a quiet place to work, but I suppose I was wrong." Draco responded coolly, "What are you doing here?"

"Granger was just helping me with some Rune translations."

Draco glanced briefly at her, before pressing his lips together into a thin line and staring back at Zabini. Zabini smirked as he observed Draco's reaction.

"Clearly," Hermione muttered, returning to her chart.

"Are you here to ask Granger for help too?"

There was a quiet snort. "I think I can manage without consulting the know-it-all, thank you, Zabini."

"I would have thought that Granger would have insight for your Muggle Studies work," Zabini commented and picked up a book on Muggle sports that Hermione had finished using. Hermione glared across the table at Zabini, but he was too busy reading the blurbs on the back to notice.

"Muggles are so simple-minded, I do not think it will be a challenge," Draco retorted.

Zabini turned to Hermione and puckered his lower lip and dropping the book onto her work, "Is that true? Are your parents simple-minded?"

"I am not even justifying that ignorant opinion with a response," Hermione snapped, she picked up the book that Zabini has disturbed and slammed it back onto the pile from where Zabini had picked it up from. His attention had moved elsewhere.

"Leaving so soon?"

"I did say I was looking for a quiet place to work, this corner of the library seems awfully too lively now," Draco replied.

"A presto."

Draco seemed to hesitate before he muttered, "Ciao."

When Draco's retreating footsteps could no longer be heard on the library's polished floor, Zabini spoke up.

"Draco can be rather horrid, please do not take it to heart."

"I won't, but please don't flatter yourself into thinking you are any better," Hermione said after gathering her thoughts and looking up and meeting Blaise's hazel eyes.

His eyebrow raised ever-so-slightly, and even though his lips remained slightly parted, there was a smile dancing in his eyes. He pressed his lips together for a moment before saying, "Down three bookshelves and turn left?"

Hermione was taken back by his non-confrontational response, and nodded. Blaise stood up, slowly and gracefully whilst watching his reflection in the window. He smiled at himself before turning to Hermione.

"If I get lost, I will be back to ask you for proper help."

With that, he walked away and disappeared behind the bookshelves. Determined not to be caught by Zabini again, Hermione gathered all of the books that she had finished using and carried them to the nearest trolley. Normally she would put the books back to where she had found them, but she was in a hurry and used the enchanted trolleys that did the work for her. When she rushed back to her table, a second unwanted person was rooting through the books she had yet to read.

"Leave me alone."

"Why are you helping Zabini?"

Hermione walked around the table and angrily shoved her many papers, charts, and stationary into her schoolbag.

"I asked - …"

Hermione's head snapped up and she narrowed her eyes at Draco, "You have absolutely no right to ask - …"

"I know," Draco interrupted pathetically. He played with one of the library chairs in front of him, and did not directly meet her gaze. He tilted the chair back ever-so-slightly, and then let it fall upright. Hermione stopped packing her bag and watched Draco.

"You can't keep treating me like this, we're either friends or not."

"I know," he repeated, again with same pathetic tone.

"I think we should tell people we're friends," Hermione huffed. Draco looked away.

"I hate lying and sneaking around Lacie. She's _your_ sister so she would understand it," Hermione continued, hoping for one moment that Draco would understand. If she was really his friend then he would take it into consideration.

It was true that she hated lying and sneaking around Lacie. She had enough to lie about when it came to where she was going every other hour, let alone about her extracurriculars.

Lying was an exhausting task. Hermione could never be a spy, she concluded.

"I told you, as soon as Professor Hagrid wins the trial and Mother keeps her distance from my father, then it would be a possibility," Draco said.

"A possibility?" Hermione squeaked in a voice that was several octaves higher than she was expecting. She gulped and composed herself, "You know some Slytherins find me tolerable."

"That only applies so long as Potter does not have a Firebolt in his possession," Draco said, looking at her through his dark eyelashes. "By the end of this week, I can guarantee that the standard repartee between you and every other Slytherin will come back in full force."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because Saturday is the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw game, and Professor McGonagall will make sure that Potter will have his Firebolt for the game."

"The game is _this_ Saturday?" Hermione asked, now panicked and she ripped her bag open and searched through her bag for her diary. She dragged the things she has hastily shoved in moments earlier out, and found the thing she was looking for. She flipped through the pages of her planner until she saw that they were in the third week of February already.

Hermione was slowly losing perception of time, she thought that it was only a few days in. Professor McGonagall had warned her of this, that dabbling in time would distort her reality.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione shook her head, the bobble that she had used to tie her hair up loosened at the motion, causing for several curls to fall free. When she had found herself in the right week, she realised that she had remained organised enough to write important deadlines in the correct places, despite her mind thinking it was firmly in a different time. She turned the page, and felt her face drain of blood.

"Hermione?"

"Next week is the trial," Hermione gulped, wringing her hands. "I haven't done enough work! Hagrid is nowhere near prepared for a full Wizengamot trial."

A hand gripped hers and Hermione looked up, Draco wasn't smiling her or offering her a visible form of comfort, but somehow she instantly felt calmer.

"You have done enough, if Professor Hagrid fumbles the trial it will not be from your lack of trying, but because he is a bigger oaf than I thought he was."

Hermione snatched her hand back, "Hagrid is _not_ an oaf."

"If you say so," Draco said, biting his lower lip from a smile.

Hermione swallowed, as she held onto Draco's gaze and wondered if he would really tell Theo that he considered Hermione to be his friend. She wondered if Draco would ever allow himself to be seen in a corridor with her, or conversing with her as an equal. He confused her. One moment he would talk to her as he normally would. Then, he seemed to catch himself in a moment and act standoffish, and often crueller than before to make up for his mistake. He seemed to catch himself now as he looked away and inspected his fingernails and readjusted the chair that was in front of him.

Hermione put her things back into her bag and picked up the books she had yet to check out.

"Would you please reconsider?"

He did not acknowledge the question and simply sat down. Feeling a little bit hurt, Hermione walked towards the librarian's desk and kindly asked Madam Pince if she could borrow her selection.

As Hermione walked back to the Gryffindor Common Room, under her heavy pile of books, she realised that she wasn't happy. She hadn't been for a long time. She wasn't happy that she barely even saw her best friend. She wasn't happy she spent time with someone who wouldn't even recognise her as a friend in public. She wasn't happy that her friendship with Harry and Ron was in tatters. She looked at the Divination book at the top of her large pile, and realised that she wasn't happy with her schoolwork either. At one point she loved nothing more to crack open a book and devour its contents. Now, all she wanted to do was shut them and go to sleep.

Oh, how she missed sleeping.

She was a liar, and a cheat. A person shouldn't be allowed more than their allocated time of a day, and here she was, claiming twenty-seven hours a day, most days. Now it was coming back to haunt her as she constantly lost track of time.

"Avalon," she muttered to Sir Cadogan before he asked if he could joust for her honour and the Portrait Hole swung open to sounds of celebration.

Hermione stumbled into the Common Room and saw that there was a crowd in the middle of it. Realising that she wouldn't get an iota of peace in there, she walked towards her dormitory.

"Hermione!"

Hermione turned around, struggling under the weight of her books and saw Harry grinning at her. She blinked at him, wanting to say something but her mind was completely at a loss.

"I got my Firebolt back," Harry told her breathlessly, and Hermione's gaze flickered over to Ron, who was carrying the broom as it if was an ancient relic or a precious trophy. As her eyes roved over the rest of the Common Room, she noticed that the jubilation had died down and people were watching them.

"Congratulations," Hermione said tightly.

"I told you there was nothing wrong with it," Ron said matter-of-factly.

" _You_ should have realised that Professor McGonagall would have given it back before the Ravenclaw game, you know how much she wants to win the Quidditch Cup," a voice interjected. Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw Lacie saunter towards them. Her friend reached for the books that Hermione was carrying and she took half, lessening Hermione's load. "She probably wants the Cup more than Wood."

"No one wants the Quidditch Cup more than Wood," a series of voices chorused in the crowd and someone, presumably Wood, replied with a loud, "Oi."

"The point is, if Black was going to try and kill Harry, he wouldn't buy him a really expensive room to do it, would he?" Ron asked, suddenly abashed. He was probably ashamed for not thinking of that logic sooner, or had been trying to hide that train of thought in favour of ostracising Hermione.

"I'm afraid of Greeks, even those bearing gifts," Hermione muttered quietly and Lacie nodded. Harry looked at her with a confused look on his face. Ron stared at the Firebolt with trepidation. It seemed that likening the broomstick to a Trojan horse had caught his attention.

His attention didn't last though as Neville called for him from the top of the stairs that led towards the boy's dormitory. The urgency in his tone made Ron shoot up the stairs, precious broomstick in hand, and Harry followed. Hermione placed her books on a table, and climbed towards the boy's dormitory, wondering what had Neville so panicked. It seemed like quite a few people were feeling nosy too and crowded around the door. When Hermione and Lacie had fought their way into the boy's dormitory, they saw Neville pointing at what Hermione assumed was Ron's bed.

Hermione felt Lacie flinch beside her as they both saw that it was covered in blood. Her hand moved to cover her mouth.

"Is…that…?" Hermione said, her voice was barely a whisper.

" _Scabbers,_ " Ron breathed.

"What is that…?" Lacie asked, her words were muffled from the hand that was still over her mouth. She lowered her hand and pointed at Ron's bed, "All over the bed?"

Ron went closer to his bed to see what Lacie was pointing at and he looked up at Hermione, an icy glare fixed on his face. Hermione inched closer to his bed, and inspected what it was that littered all over the bed.

Long ginger hairs. Too long and too coarse to be from Ron, and realisation hit her like a boulder.

She fell backwards, her shaking hands clasped over her mouth and she ran out of the dormitory. She staggered down the stone staircase back into the Common Room. _Her pet cat had killed Ron's rat._ He had warned her, multiple times that her cat was aiming for his rat and that she should do more. She should have done more. _Crookshanks is a cat, it's normal for him to hunt, how much could Hermione do?_ Hermione couldn't keep her cat locked up every day.

"You did this on purpose."

Hermione spun around and saw Ron, fighting back tears. He walked towards her, and seemed to think carefully about what he was going to say. He thought better of it and pointed angrily at her, "You told your cat to kill Scabbers because of what I said to you, didn't you?"

"I-I…"

"You _planned_ this. Did you ask you _Slytherin_ friends on how to punish me?"

"N-No…"

He was close to her now, and his mouth twisted into a smile that didn't reach his sad eyes. "I wonder how many Slytherin friends you'll have when they find out Harry has his Firebolt back."

At that, Hermione felt a rush of anger and she stepped up to Ron, and wondered how many times she would have to try and get through his thick skull that she had never intended for the Slytherins to be nice to her. That was an unplanned consequence. Her resolve shattered when she actually looked at Ron, who looked completely devastated.

He grabbed her arm and leaned towards her, "I'll never forgive you."

He let go of her and stormed up towards his dormitory, and Hermione stumbled backwards. The people who had rushed to the boy's dormitory were slowly filing out, casting Hermione dark looks again. The last person to file out was Lacie, who looked at her sympathetically. She took Hermione's hand and pulled her towards their dormitory. Her friend even picked up Hermione's library books that they had put on a table to run upstairs. Lacie didn't let go of her, even as she sat Hermione down on her bed. Crookshanks jumped up to join them, nuzzling Hermione's arm. She didn't have the heart to push her pet away.

"You can cry if you want, I will not tell anyone."

"What?"

"Hermione, you look like as if you are about to burst into tears, and you have for a long time."

"I…"

"You will feel a lot better if you do."

So she did. Reaching over towards her shocked best friend, Hermione started to cry.

* * *

 _A/N: Happy (late) Valentine's Day, here is a gift in the form of a chapter. Apologies for a late update again! I think I have to stop promising an upload timescale as my timetable is far too erratic to steadily write/edit/post. Also, I had an idea for another story and I keep shifting attention to that one and it's the shiny new toy but I am working hard still on this one haha._

 _Happy reading,_

 _CSxo._


	16. Such Lengths of Hours

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen: Such Lengths of Hours**

* * *

 _Already how am I so far_  
 _Our of that minute? Must I go_  
 _Still like the thistle-ball, no bar,_  
 _Onward, whenever light winds blow,_  
 _Fixed by no friendly star?_

 _Two in the Campagna_ by Robert Browning

* * *

After sitting in the library until almost his curfew, Draco strolled in the darkness of the Dungeons. A mild headache had begun when he had started going over his Arithmancy charts and had progressively gotten worse as he read through Shakespeare. They were finished with Othello now, which thankfully meant that he did not have to read aloud as Iago anymore. However, they had now moved onto sonnets, and picking apart what Shakespeare meant with every couplet only aggravated his headache.

Breathing through his nose and out of his mouth, Draco rubbed his temples. He would go straight to bed and hopefully the rest of the boys would be quiet when they also retired to bed.

He hoped, at least. Most of the boys in the dormitory knew better than to disturb him when he was like this. His head continued to ache. If it was not so close to curfew, he would stop by the Hospital Wing for something to relieve it. He groaned and carried on walking.

Suddenly, Draco felt someone tug on the strap of his bag and pull him into a darker alcove of the Dungeons. Draco reached inside his robes for his wand, but in what light he could see he could just make out who had grabbed him in the middle of the Dungeon corridor.

"My, my, my, Theo. If I had been aware of your affection for me…"

"Shut up, Malfoy. Have you lost every single one of your Merlin be damned faculties?"

Draco shrugged himself free and raised an eyebrow at Theo, "Language."

"Well, it is difficult to retain one's composure when their best friend is eschewing their company for _Hermione Granger_."

The latter part of Theo's sentence came out as a hiss. Draco's blood ran cold. He had been so careful, so secretive, that unless someone had been following him, they may not even know immediately that his study partner for the best part of a year had been Hermione.

Draco stared at Theo in the dim light, and he knew what he had to do. He had to deny everything. Although as he tried to, his words simply came out as a series of stutters.

"W-W…What?"

"You heard me."

"Why would I spend time with Granger? You know -…"

" _That you hate her_. You seem to have a funny way of showing it."

 _Would you please reconsider?_

The parting question from Hermione had been timid, and so despairing and it had been that moment when Draco realised the extent of her loneliness. Twelve months ago, Draco would have cared less about her feelings but now he _knew_ her. He knew about Roald Dahl and how she had pored over his books, and how from that moment that his books had been a sanctuary for her. He knew that she loved exploring, her favourite holidays were ones were she learned everything about her surroundings from nature to history. She was not athletic, and would not be caught dead on a broomstick and skiing terrified her. She only skied to appease her parents, and it came as a relief when she started at Hogwarts and could turn down skiing holidays. She found chewing on the end of a quill abhorrent and she was meticulous in her work.

Draco smirked at the last point, remembering Hermione's horror at seeing a chewed quill that had been left behind on their desk.

 _Since when did they share a desk?_

Draco wondered how much Hermione remembered about him, not that he revealed much about himself. He covertly always seemed to move the topic on wizarding customs when it came to personal questions. Evasion was an inherent Malfoy trait.

"I find her tolerable," Draco acquiesced.

"Tolerable?" Theo repeated, but he looked away as he added, "A Malfoy in disgrace is an interesting creature, it seems that you simply run to the closest Muggleborn."

"We do _not."_

"Did you really think that no one would find out?" Theo asked, refusing to give him a direct answer. His tone was becoming slightly bitter. "How long did you think that you could keep it a secret?"

Draco became curious at the question and his brows furrowed, "How did you find out?"

Even in the dark, Draco could see the glare that Theo had sent his way.

"Your absence was commented on by Blaise most evenings, secretly, I think he knew from the start."

 _What was it that he said earlier on in the year?_

 _Granger would be a useful study partner._

"So, I followed you to the library today and I see you reassuring Granger about Professor Hagrid's trial. I did not know if you were being cruel or kind."

Draco's throat was dry but he managed to rasp out, "Pardon?"

"Draco, you know that your father will win the trial. The know-it-all may have spent her life in the library trying to find a defence but she is ultimately fighting against a Malfoy."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Theo took a step back and raised an eyebrow. "It means that your family may not be able to curry favour from the highest ranking officials, but you still carry influence in that courtroom. If dear Lucius can get our Headmaster suspended, executing an animal is a walk in the proverbial park."

It was a truth that until that point Draco had refused to acknowledge. He had spent too much time enjoying in the delights of appeasing Hermione. He knew of that inevitable outcome, but he had simply ignored it. Now he had to suffer the consequences for being selfish.

 _Another inherent Malfoy trait._

"I know."

"And you also know that once the trial is over, your father will be able to whisper into the ear of the Minister again. Your mother will recover from whatever daydream she is suffering from and will resume her place as a doting society wife."

"Yes, I know."

"And once that happens, dillydallying with someone like Granger is simply not done, not in our circles. Of course, no one would publicly admit it, but all of the old families do not want a Muggleborn in their ranks."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head back against the stone wall. If Shakespeare had given him a headache, Theo was giving him a full-blown migraine. He hated when Theo reminded him of their position. Draco only wished that he would pester Lacie instead, but everyone knew that Lacie was a lost cause. He sighed, "Theo, _I know_."

"Does Granger?"

"She will."

With that, Draco walked away back in the Dungeon corridor and walked towards their Common Room. Draco heard Theo behind him, and he deliberately slowed his pace. Theo easily caught up to him.

"Good," he simply said, before looking at Draco with a rueful smile. "You seem happier."

"I dear hope you are not implying that Granger has had a positive effect on my moods."

"I would not dare."

A smile played on Draco's lips as they reached the wall outside the Slytherin Common Room. He held his friend's gaze and replied, "Good, because you would be quite mistaken, Nott."

x-x-x-x-x

There was a certain corner of the library where one could sit and observe the Quidditch pitch. Of course, you would need a keen eyesight and a good grasp of the game in order to understand what was going on, and Ron Weasley had both. No one had noticed that he was scoping the Ravenclaws as they practised for their match against Gryffindor the next morning. Ron continued to pretend to be working on a difficult Herbology essay whilst peeking outside. Ron had paid attention to every match, and was sure that he had every player figured out. The Chasers were – notwithstanding the Gryffindor Chasers – flawless. The Beaters seemed to focus on protecting their Chasers rather than the Ravenclaw Seeker. The only weakness in their team was their Keeper, but the Chasers were working their Keeper hard today.

However, Ron wasn't focused on the rest of the players. His attention had been on two different Seekers. One was flying recklessly through the skies, as if she was trying to emulate Harry's flying style. The other one was working through a stack of homework.

Ron Weasley, had he been more calculating and a smidge more ambitious, definitely would have had the danger of being Sorted into Slytherin.

For the past hour, Ron had been discreetly watching Malfoy as he worked and tried to solve what had happened during the Slytherin game against Ravenclaw. There had been ten minutes where Malfoy had remained still in the air, and it bothered Ron. A part of him was sure that Malfoy was taunting Chang for costing her team a penalty, and the goals afterwards when Ravenclaw were distracted. Ron knew that Malfoy had engineered the fall, mainly from the bravado that he had displayed when the git had gotten back onto his broom.

 _He had a match to win_ , Ron thought scathingly, _the smarmy prick_.

Those ten minutes though, there was something off. It wasn't _just_ that Malfoy was taunting Chang. Malfoy would taunt a piece of broccoli, given enough provocation… but, it was as if he was trying to distract her. It hadn't made an ounce of sense, though, because the Snitch was nowhere near him at the time. Yet, Malfoy had frozen in mid-air for some reason and Ron was determined to find out why. If it meant spending his Friday night in the library rather than being glared at from across the Common Room by Lacie, then so be it.

Another thing that bothered Ron since he had first sat down, was something completely unrelated to Quidditch. Every so often, a piece of parchment would fly in front of Malfoy that would cause the boy to smile and he would write something down before sending the parchment off again. Sometimes it was almost an essay, or he would write something briefly, but a smile would always appear on his face.

It was a strange occurrence, considering all that he saw on Malfoy's face was a sneer or a look as if someone had stuck dung under his nose. Unless, of course, he was sitting with Lacie. If there was one person at Hogwarts that made Malfoy seem almost like a decent person, it was his twin.

Ron looked out of the window again, and saw that Chang was flying from one end of the pitch to the other whilst dodging Bludgers that were being sent her way. Ron deigned to admit it, but even Malfoy had more finesse dodging a Bludger than Chang did. He was sure that the Ravenclaw Beaters were being too easy on her so she could practice, but leniency wasn't something she could afford when it was going to be Fred and George tomorrow.

There was a rustling beside him and Ron tore his attention away from the Ravenclaws and turned towards it. He frowned. It was only the library hermit, Hermione, browsing for books in one of the aisles next to him. Anger flared up inside him. He had not spoken to Hermione since her cat had murdered his rat.

It wasn't so much the loss of his rat that had annoyed Ron. Ron was realistic, and after several talks with the rest of his family and Harry, he had realised that Scabbers was old and had lived beyond his years. His anger stemmed from Hermione's stubbornness that her animal had done nothing wrong, and her callousness when it came to other people's pets. Lavender's rabbit's death had been foreseeable, and Scabber's death had been justified because _cats hunt_. Ron scoffed.

The sore point that arose from this was that Lacie had inevitably sided with Hermione. Lacie, who had hated that ginger monstrosity to begin with, had sided with it. Surely she didn't want it to be wandering around and killing things? Of course, she was siding with her best friend, and no matter how much Ron was right, Lacie would never side with him.

 _Well, sod the pair of them._

Hermione wandered through the aisle, her finger sliding from book to book and her gaze darted in Ron's direction. A blush crept across her cheeks and she scurried in the opposite direction and disappeared behind the shelves.

At least she had the decency to get out of his firing line.

Ron glanced back at the Ravenclaws outside and noticed that they were all grounded, and were stood in a circle. He went to look back at Malfoy, but the other boy had disappeared. Ron felt another twinge of annoyance. If Hermione hadn't distracted him, he may have been able to observe Malfoy some more. Ron gruffly stacked all of his work together and picked up his bag.

"Excuse me," a loud voice said behind him, and Ron turned to the speaker. It was a first-year Slytherin with a snarky look on her face, and she held out a roll of parchment in front of her.

"Draco Malfoy told me to give this to a nosy and unkempt-looking redhead."

Ron frowned and shot a glare at the girl, snatching the roll from her hand. "I am not unkempt."

The girl sniffed reproachfully and said, "Your shirt is untucked, your tie is loose and your hair could do with a trim. If Professor Snape was your Head of House, you would have had several points taken off you, for lowering the standard of your House."

Ron blew a raspberry, and the girl looked at him with disgust before turning on her heel. If the cliché was that Gryffindors were a pack of animals, he may as well perpetuate that image. He caught his reflection in the window, and patted his hair. He frowned. Harry's hair was worse by a long stretch and he didn't get hassle over it.

 _Lowering the standard of your House,_ Ron thought bitterly as he unfurled the roll that Malfoy had had delivered to him. _No wonder Slytherins were all so uptight with Snape as a Head_.

Ron scanned the contents of the parchment, and a smaller slip with a portrait of a sneering Malfoy fell out too. He was confused about the latter until he read through the note.

 _Weasel,_

 _If you wanted to stare at me from across the library without attracting my attention, I would really control your insufferable breathing. I do not have the time (nor the inclination), to remain the object of your affections all evening, so here is a likeness of myself for you to continue staring at._

 _Malfoy._

 _PS. You may want to invest more time into the art of subtlety, I think even the gargoyles outside know you are spying on Ravenclaw, and of course, myself._

Crumpling up the two pieces of parchment with a growl, Ron angrily shoved all his work into his bag. He stormed over to the fireplace and threw the balls of parchment into the fire, paying no attention to the other pieces of parchment that were burning in the fire. As he left the library he stopped just short of the Staircase and remembered what Malfoy had written.

 _How the bloody hell did he hear my breathing?_

x-x-x-x-x

Was there a word to describe how Hermione felt? Adrift? Unanchored? Off-kilter?

 _Does the hyphen make it one word?_

Hermione was drifting, in and out of consciousness, with no idea where she had come from and where she was going to end up next. It was as if she was a rag-doll, being dragged along by a toddler, her heels scraping along the ground, and the only time she became conscious was when she was dropped.

Sometimes she was dropped in the wrong class, attending Charms with the Slytherins and Ancient Runes with a class she knew conflicted with Transfiguration with the rest of the Gryffindors. The professors had looked taken aback when they saw her presence, but proceeded as if she hadn't been there. Hermione didn't mind the curious glances and the hushed whispers, because soon enough she was away again, ready to be dropped in another wrong class.

Yet, even in the mess she was creating by stumbling to and fro different times, she managed to keep atop of all her studies. Her eyes roved over pages in books, like a pianist sliding their fingers across their keys and she devoured information. Did she sleep? What was sleep? Was the loss of her awareness occurring when she was sleeping?

The one constant that pulled her out of these fugues was Lacie, as if she was whirling a lasso over her head and Hermione was her bull. As Hermione blinked, she could see Lacie lips moving in the shape of her name across from her.

"Hermione," Lacie was mouthing. The hubbub of the Great Hall flooded around her, and she was present again.

Hermione blinked again and had asked, "What?"

"Where did you go?"

Hermione forced a smirk, "I was just with you in History of Magic, remember?"

Confusion rippled over Lacie's face as she replied, "That was several hours ago."

"Was it? Aren't we at lunch?"

"We are at dinner, Hermione," Lacie said slowly, and Hermione looked up at the ceiling. It was dark, the slight glow of the moon licked at the edges of impenetrable clouds. She looked back down, trying to think of an explanation but a tug at her neck put that thought to rest. Hermione blinked and she was gone again.

 _This has to stop_ , Hermione thought to herself, when she was next anchored. It was 12am and she was staring at her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles outlined tired eyes, and her hair was as uncontrollable as ever. Her skin was dry, and she looked sickly. In fact, she looked a lot like Ginny Weasley did the previous year, when she had been possessed by Riddle.

 _Am I being possessed?_

Before Hermione could answer herself, she was waking up to the sounds of a bell in the Great Hall. Lacie was shoving her awake, and Hermione could only look at her with a gaping mouth.

"What time is it?"

"Time to get Transfiguration before Professor McGonagall berates us for being late," Lacie snapped, angrily standing up. "You slept through breakfast."

"But I-I…"

"Are you okay?" Lacie asked, her earlier irritation had dissipated. "I am worried about you."

Hermione smiled at her and shook her head, "Nothing's wrong."

That was one of the many lies that she was telling. Everything was wrong. Day after day, she was becoming less aware of herself, and she couldn't tell anyone. She had cried into Hagrid's oversized coat about it all, but one of the Groundskeeper's answers had been to go to Professor McGonagall. She didn't want to go to her Head of House, and admit that she couldn't handle it. She had fought tooth-and-nail for this opportunity and failure wasn't an option. She _could_ handle it, but she just couldn't handle the lies.

She had been ducking into crowds of people, avoiding her best friend for weeks to avoid detection. She hid in broom closets and bathroom cubicles, distracting herself with the logistics of hiding her secret, but this only seemed to make her feel more lost. Lacie had stopped asking her where she was going, or how she was attending her classes. Instead, Lacie's questions was directed to ask if Hermione was alright, if her workload was manageable, or if Lacie could help. Hermione brushed it off, but every time she felt more and more rubbish.

To cap it off, she was already feeling rotten over Scabbers' death, and the break-in on Gryffindor Tower had terrified her. She only found out about it when she landed in Herbology, where everyone was baffled about how she didn't know what had happened. Harry had asked her why she was all over the place but Hermione, in her frustration, had reacted with a barbed comment. His reaction was to continue to support Ron, but every so often, he would look over his shoulder in slight concern.

 _She was lying to him too._

Hagrid's other suggestion, was to go to another Professor. That was how she found herself on the third floor and standing outside Professor Lupin's office. She rubbed her tear-stained cheeks to make herself look presentable before knocking on the door.

She heard a quiet voice telling her to come in. She lifted the door handle, and took a deep breath before walking into the office. Behind a stack of parchment, Professor Lupin sat marking work as well as tending to something in a cage – presumably for one of his classes. He looked up, and before he recognised her, Hermione saw that he looked as worn and exhausted as she was. It melted away as he stood with a warm smile and walked to the front of his desk. He leaned against it and put his arms on either side of him on the edge of his desk.

"Miss Granger, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Hermione fidgeted with the strap of her school bag. She forced herself to be present, to not allow herself be pulled away by the force around her neck.

"Professor Lupin, I have a question."

"Quite unusual, Miss Granger, as you seem to be one of the few that knows all of the answers."

Hermione blushed. She was suddenly unable to meet her Professor's eye. She knew that she was a swotty, brownnosing know-it-all. However, it was one thing to know something and another to be constantly reminded of it, especially by a Professor. It was as if Professor Snape was chastising her, and she wondered if she had made a mistake by coming to Professor Lupin.

Professor Lupin seemed to sense her discomfort before adding, "You remind me of myself, I was also the more studious one out of all of my friends."

Hermione nodded. She looked up at the Professor who was watching her expectantly.

"Where are my manners? Please, take a seat."

"I would prefer to stand, if that's alright, Professor."

The Professor smiled kindly at her again, "Yes, of course. I believe you had a question for me."

"Yes. Well, you see, Professor… I-I know you're a werewolf."

Professor Lupin stiffened at her words and looked pointedly away and at the stone floor beneath them.

"So, you wanted to know what it was like to be a werewolf?" He rasped, and his words had a harsh edge to them.

"No, I wanted to know what it's like to have a secret that you're not allowed to tell anyone, but people notice that there's something wrong and they constantly try and find out what it is that's wrong," She knew that she wasn't making sense, but the words seemed to burst out of her before she could logically put them into a coherent sentence. The professor regarded her, as if playing out her words in his mind again and trying to understand her. Hermione bit her lip almost apologetically.

She hadn't meant for it to simply tumble out of her mouth in front of him. She had been toying with what to say and how to present her case, but had fallen at the last hurdle and now Professor Lupin didn't know how to react. However, she had been dying to tell someone about her conundrum, even if it was a small portion of the bigger issue and now, it felt there was a weight off her chest. Her professor looked at her with curiosity and raked a hand through his greying hair.

"What is this about, Miss Granger?"

"My Time-Turner." The hourglass seemed to burn under her blouse as she spoke about it, as if it knew it was being talked about it and it wanted to remain a secret. She gulped. It felt as if she was confessing to some wrongdoing, but all of her Professors were fully aware of how she was attending all of her classes. Still, she found herself explaining herself. "I use it so I can attend all of my classes, you see, I take twelve subjects and most of my lessons clash."

Professor Lupin nodded, urging her to continue.

"Well, the problem is, I'm not allowed to tell anyone that I have a Time-Turner but I hate lying to my friends all the time about where I go or how I appear suddenly in different places. I just thought that you may have been in my shoes at one point, about lying to your friends about where you were going every month, because of…"

Hermione tailed off, not wanting to repeat that her Professor was a werewolf, just in case he took it the wrong way again. She wondered if her implication would be taken the wrong way too, but was surprised that a mischievous smile appeared on her Professor's face.

"Well, Miss Granger, I think you're overthinking the problem when you should be finding the loophole of your predicament.

"I was very fortunate that in my condition I was even allowed to attend Hogwarts. Obviously, a very close watch had to be kept over me, considering the potential harm I posed over my Housemates and the boys I shared a dormitory with. I had to lie every month about where I was disappearing off to, and as you can imagine, it was more noticeable than disappearing for a few hours and reappearing randomly in a different place. At first, I didn't mind because I didn't know the boys very well, but then these boys became my closest friends. I was wracked with guilt every time that I had to lie to them, knowing that they cared about my welfare.

"But, I had to lie to them because telling them the truth was out of question. My parents had tried relentlessly to find a cure, and when none existed, they started distancing themselves from my fate. Not everyone is like you, Miss Granger. Those who are from Wizarding households aren't the most accepting of my kind."

"How so?"

"I read the essay Professor Snape had set. You wrote extensively that if more research went into the limiting the moon's effects on the werewolf, defending against or killing werewolves may not be a necessary safeguard. It was a different perspective from what I'm used to seeing."

Hermione pulled a face, considering what he had said before replying, "T-Thank you."

"No, I thank you. It gives me hope for the younger generation," Professor Lupin laughed and continued warmly, "As I was saying, it is very difficult to reveal something that you have forced yourself to keep secret, but people have ways of finding out."

"Like how I found out you were a werewolf."

"Precisely, although, I do believe Professor Snape conducted the lesson and set the essay for the purpose of someone figuring it out," the Professor replied, and his expression had changed. Now, instead of smiles, he was frowning. It soon dissipated as he focused on his advice for her.

"What I am telling you is that if someone finds out, by accident or on purpose, you haven't broken the terms of the agreement. Miss Malfoy will know but you wouldn't have necessarily told her."

Hermione was initially shocked that the Professor knew who she was talking about, but then nodded at his advice.

"Yes, Professor."

"Has that solved your quandary?"

Hermione nodded again and answered, "I-I think so."

The Professor smiled back, and stood up from the edge of his desk and walked back to his seat. Hermione felt slightly embarrassed for a moment, having taken so much of her Professor's time. He most likely had a lot of marking still left to do, and it was inching closer to a full moon. It wouldn't be long until he succumbed to the moon's effects.

"Oh, and Miss Granger?"

"Yes?"

"Could you please keep the details of my ailment a secret? I wouldn't want to incite fear should students get wind of it."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "More secrets?"

"Ah, but think of it as a secret that isn't yours to tell. You should let other people do the legwork for a change."

"I didn't think of it like that. Thanks, Professor."

Professor Lupin sat down at his desk and he smiled at her. "Any time."

As Hermione turned and left the office, she felt remarkably lighter. A small part of her disapproved of herself for scheming to break a blatant rule that she had been set by her Head of House. The last thing that Hermione wanted to do was disappoint Professor McGonagall, but the weight of keeping things a secret was slowly eating her up. Ron didn't trust her, and Harry only followed what Ron wanted. Hermione couldn't bear to lose the one friend that she had left.

It was a slight shock though, that Professor Lupin had thought of the solution for her. She had always thought that the Hogwarts Professors were by-the-book, and she wondered what mischief Professor Lupin had gotten up to during his days at Hogwarts. It must have been something noteworthy for even Hagrid to remember.

* * *

 _A/N: Apologies for the [later-than-usual] update. Have a good weekend!_

 _[ & if you're keen to read more, check out my new story on my profile - Magic Compatible, but it won't be updated as often as Admonitions, or maybe it will? Who knows.]_

 _Happy reading,_

 _CSxo_


	17. Our Work Is Done

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen: Our Work is Done**

* * *

 _O, then we awoke with sudden start  
From our deep dream, and knew, too late,  
How bare the rock, how desolate._

Robert Browning from _Wanderers_

* * *

"There you are," Lacie sighed her as she glided towards Hermione. Hermione lifted her gaze momentarily from the heavy text in front of her, and saw that her friend had a scowl firmly planted on her face. She watched as Lacie scanned the books that were strewn across the desk in front of Hermione, and her scowl deepened.

"I did not know if you went to Hogsmeade or the library," Lacie said gently, when Hermione didn't answer. "I just came back from the library."

Hermione would have been in the library, but when she had lingered there for a moment, it was far too crowded for her liking. She simply borrowed what she needed before slinking off to her own Common Room. If the Common Room also had been crowded, she would have done her work in her dormitory, knowing that it would be empty until the afternoon.

Surprisingly, the Gryffindor Common Room had been quiet before Lacie had flounced over. Aside from small groups of first and second-years, a few studious upper-years, the Common Room had been relatively empty.

It was then when Hermione realised that it had been a Hogsmeade weekend, and it was another thing on a growing list of things she had forgotten. Hermione hadn't seen Lacie that morning, assuming that she had simply another Saturday lesson to attend. It hadn't even crossed her mind that Lacie had chosen not to go to Hogsmeade either.

Hermione, for the first time in weeks, felt awake. She had been so accustomed to wading through fogginess that the sudden clarity shocked her. It was that clarity that allowed her to notice Lacie properly, to notice that there was something different about her friend. Dark circles had returned under her friend's eyes, and there was a nervous quality to her. She looked resigned and exhausted, and Hermione felt a rush of guilt.

She hadn't noticed Lacie for the past few days, aside from when Lacie pulled her out of her walking daydream. She hadn't noticed that her friend could barely sleep, nightmares of Riddle and the Chamber flooding back in the wake of Black's break-in. She hadn't noticed that Lacie was jittery, probably panicked from walking alone in Hogwarts' corridors, just in case Black was hiding and ready to attack. She hadn't realised the small hint of panic that laced her voice, when she was berating Harry about his map, may have been because she was terrified.

 _Hermione was a rotten friend._

"Tough ballet lesson?" Hermione asked tentatively, lowering her book and leaning forward. Lacie rolled her eyes and huffed at her.

" _No_ , I told you. Miss Belle-Faire is temporarily restricted from coming to Hogwarts. New security measures in the wake of…well, you know."

Hermione didn't remember being told. Another thing she forgot. Another addition to the list.

 _Hermione was a really rotten friend_.

"Tough piano lesson?" Hermione tried again.

She tried not to be too disheartened with herself when Lacie shook her head, "Ced went to Hogsmeade, he invited me out go with him, but…"

Even as Lacie trailed off, Hermione didn't need reminding of Lacie's reticence to go to Hogsmeade. Her friend didn't want yet another reminder of Riddle's torture that came with brushing past the Dementors, even briefly on the carriage ride there.

"I still practised for a few hours though, but I cannot seem to get focused recently," Lacie said, interrupting Hermione's thoughts.

"I know what that feels like," Hermione said softly.

Lacie snorted. She gestured at the plethora of books all over the desk and said, "You are the most focused person I know, Hermione."

Hermione snapped her book shut and put it down before leaning toward Lacie, "Not recently, I haven't. I mean, I'm focused on my studies but I'm all over the place."

"Maybe you should drop something," Lacie suggested with a small smile, and Hermione felt her face drop. Lacie winced at Hermione's reaction and then said, "You are overworked, Hermione, and I am worried about you. You disappear at odd times and appear at Herbology with Ravenclaw, when you know you are supposed to be in Defence with us."

Hermione blinked at her.

Perhaps her friend was right. She looked at the book in her hands and realised that crystal-gazing was a crock of rubbish, that had its basis in blind faith and assumptions. She scanned over her other textbooks and she knew that she didn't _need_ Muggle Studies either. She only tolerated it for Shakespeare, but that was slowly losing its former enticement. She was tired of pretending that she could cope.

Hermione Granger was also stubborn, and did not quit. She wouldn't let this break her. She shook her head at her friend, who walked around the table to sit next to her. Lacie, in turn, took in the sheer amount of books on her desk. She sighed at Hermione.

"You need time to breathe," Lacie finally said.

"I need _time_ ," Hermione said, rubbing her temples. One of her hands fell to her chest, where she could feel the hourglass underneath her jumper. Lacie's eyes followed Hermione's hand, and her forehead creased, but she didn't say anything. Hermione's hand fell to her lap.

 _If someone finds out, by accident or on purpose, you haven't broken the terms of the agreement._

Professor Lupin's words echoed in the back of her mind as Hermione asked, "Is there some sort of secret Wizarding secret to manufacturing time?"

Lacie cocked her head, "What do you mean?"

Hermione forced herself to shrug, "If there was a way that I could just make more time, I think that it would help. At least with the reading we have to do."

"You know you would have a lot less reading to do if you did not read the entire textbook, especially for things you already know."

"Or… if there was a way to make more time."

Lacie huffed at her and rolled her eyes at Hermione.

"You cannot _make_ more time," Lacie said with something akin to frustration, "You can travel _back_ in time to make it seem like you have more time, but to _create_ more time…"

"Beyond the scope at Hogwarts?" Hermione finished for her and Lacie nodded.

"…beyond the scope of specialising in Time Magic," Lacie added. "Although, studying time travel is part of a Mastery in Time Magic, but those Masteries are rare."

"Time travel?"

"Well, time travel is possible using Time-Turners that…"

"Turn time?" Hermione interrupted cheekily.

Lacie swatted her. "Why, do Muggles have a fancier alternative?"

Hermione shrugged, "I suppose Muggles have hypothetical time machines and _Doctor Who._ "

"Should I even ask?" Lacie said with a sigh, she gently picked up a book to peruse. Pausing with the book mid-air, she turned to Hermione with a solemn expression. "Although, there are side effects to time travel."

Hermione's hand went to her neck as she nervously ran her fingers along the chain at her neck. Lacie's eyes watched her carefully, but again, didn't say anything.

"W-What side effects?"

" _Well,_ you know that nature has always prioritised balance, magic and electricity and the like," Lacie explained, referencing a conversation that Hermione remembered from the summer. "No one should have the power to alter time, so the more that you manipulate time, the more time will try and manipulate you."

"H-How?"

"I do not know the specifics," Lacie replied airily, having opened the book that she had picked up earlier and was now browsing. "I just remember Theo's father lecturing us on how we should not play with Time Magic."

Hermione looked away from Lacie, in the vain hope that her friend could not see her guilty face. She resisted the urge to touch her Time-Turner, which was now burning under her sweater, in case Lacie would catch her again.

"Hermione?"

Hermione's gaze snapped towards Lacie and saw that she was staring at her. The book lay in her lap, forgotten. Concern was dancing in her tired eyes. A familiar sensation of tugging was slowly seeping up her arm. Hermione's breath hitched for a moment as she realising what was happening again. The haziness that had consumed her was threatening to take her again.

 _The more that you manipulate time, the more time will try and manipulate you_.

"Are you alright? You look like you have just had a fright."

Hermione took a deep breath as the tugging sensation had eased. She smiled at Lacie, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"No, I'm perfectly al -…"

"Just because you didn't have the sense to get an owl instead of that ginger monstrosity, doesn't mean that I have to deliver your letters," a furious voice interrupted her, and she looked up to see Ron, holding an envelope addressed to her. Hermione took it off him, her brows furrowing as she tore it open. Who was sending her letters on a Saturday afternoon?

"I think you will find the _only_ ginger monstrosity here is you."

Hermione forced herself not to smirk at Lacie's scathing comment. She scanned the contents of the letter – or rather, note – and she could feel the colour rushing from her face.

"Oh, side with _her_ , like you always do!"

"She is my best friend!"

" _Some_ best friend! She hasn't been awake for _weeks_ , and you know as well as I do that she's _hiding_ something and won't tell us what."

"Stop," Hermione said.

"Can you two not talk to each other without arguing? Haven't we already had a tough day?" Harry groaned.

"A tough day breaking the rules with that Merlin be-damned map, Harry?" Lacie hissed.

"Stop," Hermione said with finality, standing up to the surprise of the group around them. The letter was slowly crumpling in her shaking hand.

"What is it?" Lacie asked as she tugged at Hermione's sleeve.

"It's Hagrid," Hermione said carefully, her voice quite uneven. She swallowed, and looked at everyone in turn. "The-The Committee, they've decided to execute Buckbeak."

x-x-x-x-x

Hermione sat in the library, glancing at the unoccupied seat further down the table. Ever since the news broke of Buckbeak's execution, Hermione had been in the library. She sat in the seat that she always sat at, and she would surreptitiously stare at that empty seat, wondering if he would come and fill it, like he always had.

She was fantasising, of course. Draco Malfoy was never going to sit in that seat again. News also broke that Narcissa Malfoy had welcomed the decision of the Committee by embracing her husband in public. An enlightening _Witch Weekly_ article had covered the story, detailing how Lucius Malfoy was so in love with his formerly estranged wife that he would fight tooth-and-nail to get her back. No one wrote that an innocent animal had to die in the process, but that was the way the world worked.

The Malfoy family was respected again.

The thought made Hermione's head hurt.

At least Lacie was equally as disgusted as Hermione was.

"You did all that you could," Lacie tried to pacify her, when she saw Hermione rubbing her head.

"I really thought that he would win," Hermione replied as she reviewed all of her notes again. Intertwined with her handwriting, she saw annotations with Draco's handwriting on them. There was also a stack of his research that he had given to her. She shuffled those papers within her own.

"Sometimes you can have the best argument for a case prepared, but when it comes to presenting it…" Lacie paused. "The last time that Hagrid saw my father was when he was being taken to Azkaban, so it was natural that he might be nervous."

"But - …"

"And you know my father, he may have been slightly downtrodden but he still whispers in the ears of important people."

"That's…"

"Not fair?" Lacie finished, and then snorted derisively as she flicked through a large textbook. "Since when have the rules of the Wizarding World exactly been _fair_?"

Hermione huffed as skimmed her old notes, trying to see if she had referenced a book that she could look for again. Lacie snapped her book shut and pulled the notes away from Hermione.

"Maybe fresh eyes on this will help?" Lacie asked, despite Hermione's protests. Lacie silenced Hermione with a hand as she read through the differing parchment. Hermione awaited with bated breath for the moment Lacie would reach the stack of notes that Draco had prepared.

 _Would she recognise the writing?_ Hermione thought, in half-panic and half-desperation and knew that that train of thought was stupid. _Of course she would recognise it, she is his twin!_

 _Would she be angry?_

Hermione distracted herself by reading the textbook that Lacie had disregarded. It wasn't a book that she had read before, but Draco had made notes on it. Realising that she was reading the same line over and over again, Hermione stopped. She watched as Lacie nodded at the points made on her notes, sometimes underlining them to stress their importance. Noticing that there was a repetition in the cases, she skimmed the notes quickly, turning page over page over…Then Lacie paused. Her eyes widened at what she was seeing and her gaze snapped up to meet Hermione's.

"Why-Why did Draco write these notes?"

Hermione gulped, but realised that as they were in the library, Lacie could not raise her voice at her. She turned to her friend, knowing that it was time to tell the truth.

"He has been helping me with the trial."

" _Why?_ Didn't he provoke the animal in the first place?"

Hermione shrugged at her friend. In all honesty, Hermione wasn't entirely too sure why Draco had fixated on helping her after his initial reluctance. He had been rather dogged about it, but he never gave a reason for why he was. Hermione had simply chalked it up to him trying to make amends for his behaviour the previous year. He had mentioned something about freedom, but Hermione pushed that thought away. Draco Malfoy was smart, entitled, and seemed to get away with anything, how much more freedom did he want?

"These notes," Lacie said, her tone coloured with awe, "are amazing."

"Are they?" Hermione asked as she raised an eyebrow. It was the last bundle of notes that Draco had insisted that she duplicate for Hagrid. Being as busy as she had been and completely in a daze for the past few weeks, she hadn't thoroughly gone through Draco's notes with the same fine-tooth comb she normally would have.

"They go through each member of the Committee, their weaknesses, what they favour in an argument and most importantly, if they are easily influenced by my father."

Hermione blinked and peered over at the notes. "Even then, it may not even help because out of that list, only three will make up the decision committee and all of them could be influenced by your father."

Lacie shook her head, "Draco thought of everything… but why?"

Instead of waiting for answer, Lacie stood up, clutching the notes as she departed the library. Hermione sighed into the open textbook.

 _Headaches were too common an occurrence recently._

x-x-x-x-x

Lacie sat, much to the amusement of several passing Slytherins, crouched on the floor of the Dungeon corridor. Her knees were pulled up, her arms folded on them, Draco's notes crumpled in her hands. She felt sick, and her head was throbbing as she tried not to shudder at the thin sheen of sweat that was forming all over her strained body.

She had walked to her limit towards the Slytherin Common Room. It had been unpleasant during her first-year with Professor Snape, and it was even more unpleasant now. It was as if the more she embraced the Gryffindor values of her House, the more the corridor had tried to resist her.

She was so warm, so hot, and she wanted nothing more than to retch.

She had searched what seemed like every room at Hogwarts. Draco was nowhere to be found, so she hoped that she would be able to catch Draco as he went to lunch.

She was going to be sick.

Draco, apparently, was going to have a late lunch.

Lacie was going to throw her breakfast up.

No Slytherin so far that had passed her, not that there were many, that were willing to help her find her brother. After one too many scathing looks, she waited until she saw someone she knew to pass before she would ask. For now, she would just sit, head-pounding and resisting the urge to empty her stomach.

"Lace?"

Lacie raised her head, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and she smiled.

"Theo?"

The boy stuck out a hand, that Lacie gracefully took. At first he smiled at her and asked, "What are you doing here? Has the Sorting Hat changed its mind and decided that you are a Slytherin, after all the hassle?"

He helped to pull her up.

"Have you seen Draco?"

Theo looked at her carefully as she stood up. All she wanted to do was keel over. Salazar Slytherin had _really_ wanted his little snakes isolated to warrant this sort of punishment for wandering so close to the pit. Lacie let out a ragged breath.

Theo's eyebrows knotted together as he asked, "Are you alright? You look awfully pale."

Lacie nodded, and through gritted teeth she said, "I am fine."

"No you are -… Oh, _I forgot_ , Merlin!" Theo pulled her along the corridor, and slowly the awful feeling of dizziness and nausea rolled away. "What on earth possessed you to try to get to the Slytherin Common Room? Did you not know that there were _particular_ deterrents?"

"I needed my brother."

Theo shook his head, "Draco will not leave his bed."

At that, Lacie raised an eyebrow. _How unusual._ "Why?"

"I think he is unwilling to accept that he will have to take up the responsibilities he has been shirking for the majority of the year."

"Draco does not have any - …"

"He is the scion of the Malfoy family, there are certain… _things_ he has to abide by."

Lacie did not need Theo to say it, but she knew what was lingering at the end of that sentence. _As the spare, you are free from such obligations._ _As the disgrace of the family, you will not be required to represent the Malfoy family_. _You just do your silly dancing, Lacie, and look pretty enough that a respectable noble of your parents' choosing will want your hand._

Lacie may be the spare, the disgrace, the silly dancer but she was still a Malfoy. She was her mother's daughter, and anyone who knew better ought to be more afraid of Narcissa Malfoy. She drew herself up, took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes at Theo.

"Bring him to me."

"I -…"

"You bring my pathetic brother to me, or my father will hear about this."

Shock rippled through his blue eyes, and he blinked at her. He nodded and briskly walked in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room. Lacie slumped, letting out a sigh of relief. If only she had the courage to do _that_ to all the Slytherins who had smirked at her as she sat uncomfortably on the floor.

 _Or my father will hear about this_ , Lacie mused to herself. Draco threw that insult all the time to get his own way, and for the most part, Lacie had never resorted to such childish tactics. It did not bode well for someone who was constantly running to their parents to solve all of their problems.

 _But is that not the nature of a Pureblood? Relying on the family name?_

Before Lacie could follow that train of thought, Theo returned, dragging her brother with him. Theo had not allowed Draco to change, instead dragging him by the velvet dressing gown along the corridor. It seemed that he was not even allowed to wear slippers, as Lacie eyed his bare feet. He cast Theo an insolent look before glaring at Lacie.

" _What?"_

She would not allow him to speak to her in that tone. She waited patiently until his annoyance had abated, and then he stuck his lower lip out before letting out a soft whine. "What?"

Lacie thrust the bundle of parchment into his hands and answered with, "Explain."

Draco's forehead creased as he looked at the parchment. He unfurled what Lacie had subconsciously rolled up and his mouth fell open.

"How did you get this?"

"I told you to explain."

Lacie did not know where she was getting her courage from, but as her gaze flickered over to Theo, she felt a small bit of satisfaction. No one could doubt that she was an heir in her own right. She channelled Lucius Malfoy with such ease, she worried herself, but this was not the time for doubt.

"I asked Granger to be my study partner, and she dragged me into this mess."

Lacie rolled her eyes. "Do you expect me to believe that you were dragged into this? You _wanted_ to help."

"Fine," Draco snapped, and then he gave a cursory glance at Theo – who remained expressionless – and looked back at Lacie. "I felt bad that the animal was going to die because I was a dunderhead."

Theo coughed, with a noise that sounded a lot like, ' _Hufflepuff_ '.

Lacie smirked, and wondered how much longer Draco was going to lie to her. She swished the words around her mouth, pondering how long she should draw it out, before her lips drew up into a smile.

"No, what you wanted was to punish Father for what he did to you over the summer," Lacie said. "He forced you to remember and memorise all those people and their weaknesses, and you wanted to get back at him for doing it."

"That is _childish_."

"Then explain this," Lacie hissed, gesturing at the notes. "Explain the level of detail into each Committee member, almost knowing what steps Father would take to win the trial, because aside from that explanation, I really cannot think of anything else."

Theo had moved so that he was beside Draco and was peering over his arm.

"What did you think you were doing?" Theo asked, a rough edge to his voice, "I told you to stay away from Granger."

"You _knew?_ "

Theo turned to her with a sneer on his face. "Draco was careless in his approach, although it did take me the better part of a year to find out. Did you run to Granger with all these notes after our little chat? Did you really think that it would have changed anything?"

Draco's gaze snapped up to meet Lacie, and he said, rather tonelessly, "Fine, Lace, you solved it. I wanted to see if I could play our father at his own game, but clearly it did not work, happy?"

 _Lie._

Theo may have taken the lie with a curt nod, but Lacie would not. There was no reason for Draco to keep lying, not when Lacie had detailed a plausible plan out for him, _unless it had not been his plan all along._ What else was there? Lacie would have done it for the same reasons had she not treated the case dismissively. It was a reason why a _Malfoy_ would have done it, and Lacie was considered the lesser Malfoy, so where was this reticence coming from?

Unless of course, there were other reasons. Other reasons that Lacie could not simply learn from her twin without Theo's looming presence around them. She turned to Theo, "I need to speak to him alone."

With that, she grabbed Draco's arm. At first, he looked at her with mortification and resisted, spluttering, "W-Wait, I do not even have shoes on."

Lacie stopped and turned to face Theo, a cat-like smile growing wider on her face. Theo spluttered for a moment, a red flush spotting his pale cheeks and then huffed. He bent down to undo his shoelaces and slowly took his shoes off. He walked in his socks, his shoes dangling off his fingers and thrust them at Lacie.

"If he stretches them, you are buying me new ones out of your own pocket money, and I assure you, they are not _cheap_."

"Thank you, Theo," Lacie said in a slight singsong voice. She took the shoes and passed them to Draco. Draco gave her a contemptuous look before dropping them onto the floor and shoving his feet in them. He smirked at her and strolled out of the Dungeons.

"Thirty Galleons, Malfoy," Theo hummed back.

"That is barely a dent in my personal vault," Lacie hissed, rounding onto him, "also, why are you wearing the equivalent of a month's salary on your feet?"

Theo gave her an odd look, before turning around and walking in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room. It was a look that simply said, _because I can_ , because people like the Notts could afford such extravagant luxuries that the simple person could not.

 _Not that, if one considered her scathing response to Theo, meant that she was any better._

Lacie turned away and followed where her brother had gone, stepping into the Entrance Hall. He was waiting for her by the stairs leading up to the Main Staircase, leaning against the marble wall. When he saw her, he raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"I hope you have good reason for dragging me out in my pyjamas, because if anyone saw me like this, I would never hear the end of it."

"Is it any worse than having mud splattered all over your face?"

A flash of irritation appeared on his face, but was gone as soon as it had appeared. The corner of Lacie's mouth quirked upward at his reaction. It seemed that Draco's pride was still bruised by Harry's – rather small – prank. If she wanted to get the answers that she wanted, she would do better if she avoided mentioning Harry. Lacie did not have enough patience to stroke his ego, to flatter him so that he would be so smug that he would accidentally reveal himself. Draco had always been betrayed by his need for compliments, and had yet to master the art of being coy.

She simply had to rely on being innately to read Draco like a book to know what was really going on.

"You may have fooled Theo, but did you honestly think that you could fool _me_? Your _twin?_ "

Draco stared back. There was nothing in his features that gave anything away. Lacie tried to reach into that connection she shared with Draco, that link that almost betrayed every emotion but that was strangely still.

 _What is so bad that Draco is hiding something from me?_

Then it dawned on Lacie, with a crescendo of someone slamming their hands upon the keys of a piano. How had she not seen it? Draco really did not have a reason to be nice to Hermione at Hogwarts, in fact, he had actively sought out her friend. From Theo's reaction, he had sought out Hermione's companionship under the nose of his Slytherin friends.

"You _care_ for her."

Draco huffed at her.

"I do not."

Draco's may have seemed blasé but his demeanour had given it away. Lacie's mouth broke into a toothy grin, "You helped her because she has become a friend of sorts to you and you _care_ for her."

Draco rounded on her, narrowing his eyes and gave her such a venomous look that Lacie took a step backwards at his reaction.

"I would not lower myself to do something so _filthy_ as that, I _pity_ her. I _pity_ her lack of knowledge, so I thought I would school her in what it was _truly_ like to be a Pureblood. She is a _joke_ , with her lofty ideals about shattering the perception that she amounts to more than _dirt_. Had you been Sorted into Slytherin, you would have laughed about it, how she thinks that she will be some sort of revolutionary, when she will _never_ amount to anything more than a secretary of another secretary because I have, as have the rest of my Housemates."

"I'm glad she was Sorted into Gryffindor then."

Draco and Lacie turned around to see Hermione leaning over the bannister of stairs leading to the Entrance Hall. Lacie felt the colour drain out of her face, and a soft tugging in her chest that was not entirely hers. She turned to her brother, and saw the face behind the mask.

 _Oh, Draco. You_ do _care for her._

* * *

 _A/N: It's been a while, and this was another chapter that when I first wrote, I really didn't like the direction it went in and it got to 10k words long and full of things that didn't really serve the purpose of the story and *huff*. I am so indecisive._

 _As always, happy reading._

 _CSxo_


	18. Certain People of Importance

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling & Shakespeare.**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen: Certain People of Importance**

* * *

 _"Dante, standing, studying his angel,_  
 _In there broke the folk of his Inferno."_

Robert Browning from _One Word More_

* * *

" _In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,  
For they in thee a thousand errors note;  
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,  
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote;  
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted,  
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,  
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited  
To any sensual feast with thee alone:  
But my five wits nor my five senses can  
Dissuade a foolish heart from serving thee,  
Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man,  
Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be:  
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,  
That she makes me sin awards me pain."_

Draco glared at Professor Charity Burbage, as she sat with her eyes closed and drinking in the sound of Hermione's voice as she had recited _Sonnet 141_. Unlike her usual self, where she would have recited it from memory with an annoying inflection, there was something vulnerable in Hermione's voice today as she read it from the anthology. Draco wondered if that was his doing, for being such an utter twit within hearing range.

 _It was for the best,_ Theo's voice told him in the back of his mind.

Draco looked at his text, reading along as she read it aloud, wondering what even was the point of it all.

When she had finished speaking and had sat down, the Professor opened her eyes with a self-satisfied smile on her face and stood up. She walked around the classroom, gazing at the students around her before asking, "What do you think Shakespeare is trying to say with this sonnet?"

Lacie, who was sat in front of him, turned back to look at Draco with a raised eyebrow before pursing her lips.

Hermione, on the other hand, remained resolutely facing forwards, refusing to acknowledge his existence. She had made it very clear that she no longer wanted to be friends – in secret or not – with him anymore and had covered his desk with her ever-growing stack of textbooks. Draco had simply ignored this fact and took a seat behind them, which suited him greatly as he was further away from the prying eyes of –

"Mister Malfoy, my _much appreciated_ student, perhaps, _you_ could start the class off?"

"Your soon-to-be-ex much appreciated student," Draco muttered at the Professor. Insolence was a rare trait to find in a Slytherin, as Professor Snape nipped the habit in the bud during his students' first week at Hogwarts. Professor Burbage, however, made it difficult to hold his tongue.

"Yes, what would be a class with you without you reminding me of your intent to drop it following your exams? But until then, Mister Malfoy, you are completely at my mercy. The sonnet?"

Draco shrugged, scanning the first two lines quickly, "That he does not love the woman he is writing about?"

"If that were true, why would he spend fourteen lines writing about his distaste?" a Hufflepuff to his right asked with a sigh, "it's probably another love sonnet, they're _all_ love sonnets."

"Maybe even Shakespeare got bored about love sonnets and decided to forgo _another_ sonnet about comparing someone to a summer's day," a Ravenclaw in the row in front of the Hufflepuff girl countered. "There are only so many metaphors in the world."

"I think," Lacie piped up, staring at Draco with that uncomfortable knowing gaze that seemed to precede that she was about to reveal something unpleasant about him, "that he loves the woman in the sonnet."

"Did you even read the sonnet?" Draco snapped at her, suddenly fed up of the knowing look she kept casting at him, " _In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes, for they in thee a thousand errors note_ – yes, that is the epitome of love poetry, Lace, well done."

Lacie narrowed his eyes at him and retorted, "You may have read it, but as usual, you did not understand it, Draco, or would you need Hermione to explain everything in great detail before you can?"

The classroom was so silent that one could have dropped a feather and heard it land. The class was used to the twins' sniping, but no one else had been aware that Hermione had actually _helped_ him with Muggle Studies. Draco narrowed his eyes at his sister.

" _But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise/Who in despite of view is pleased to dote_ ," a voice gently interrupted, it was so gentle and quiet that Draco jolted when he realised who had said it.

"Precisely, Miss Granger," the Professor replied, walking away from Draco's desk. "Would anyone like to explain the significance of these two lines?"

No one spoke as the Professor walked around the class, and students tried their hardest not to make eye contact. Lacie was still focused on Draco, and Draco rolled his eyes at her, focusing on the sonnet in front of him. As he scanned the sonnet again, he scoffed internally. _This was all so pointless._ If he wanted to read between the lines instead of being presented a fact, he would have taken Divination as well. He did not want to deconstruct meanings from words. He looked up at his sister, and noted that she had not looked away.

Still looking at him, "It introduces the idea that his senses and beliefs are telling him one thing about this woman, but his heart is saying another."

Lacie removed her gaze from him as the Professor nodded, and looked at her to urge her to carry on.

Draco could feel the waves of smugness radiate from her. It coiled around his wrists and travelled up his arms. The tendrils tightened around him, pulling him towards her. If he allowed it to continue, he would be too lost in her. He swallowed as he tried to focus on the class, on something else that was not Lacie.

"He is saying that there is nothing in him that finds this woman attractive, and logically this woman should repulse him, but despite all of his senses and rationality he loves her. He loves her in a way that makes him feel like it is sinning, and painful but even logical reasoning cannot prevent him from loving her."

At that, she slowly turned to Draco, looking him dead in the eye and saying, "I think it is nice, to admit that sometimes there is no logic in love. That despite what beliefs you may have grown up to believe about a person, you can throw that out of the window because you love them."

Draco could see the Professor nod in the corner of his eye, and his fingers gripped the edge of his desk. _Now this is getting ridiculous_. He was starting to feel sick from feeling his sister's emotions. He _had_ to control it, imagining chest upon chest and shoving every feeling coursing through his body and slamming them shut.

She had always done this when they were little, since she realised that she could make him feel how she felt. Since starting Hogwarts, she had not used that ability against him and he had only felt flashes of emotion, but not to this extent.

 _Not that Draco could not simply use that ability against her._

Draco tried to look bored as he flicked through his anthology and looked up as he asked, "Is this your way of telling the class that you fancy Harry Potter? I must agree, because where is the rationality in _that_?"

There was a ripple through the class, and Lacie's face went so red that he could see pink underneath her hair. She blinked at him for several moments, as if fighting back tears. Draco had forced away his emotions to separate himself from his sister, so could not feel guilt for his words. He noted with surprise that he had hit a raw nerve.

He had a certain reputation in Slytherin for doing so.

 _Serves her right for being so self-righteous about love_.

Lacie must have known that he had a tenuous connection to her emotions. He had always appeared at her side when she was feeling particularly sad, or had accidentally laughed aloud when she was feeling ecstatic.

She had to _know_ how nauseated he felt when he felt his stomach flip whenever he saw Potter, especially at the beginning of the year. Granted, their mother's intervention had subdued that flame but it was still there. He could not look Potter in the eye anymore without his heart skipping a beat.

Draco was glad that he had never felt about such a way about another person. If he had, Lacie would have countered him in seconds.

 _You forget she is a self-righteous Gryffindor too, with all of the heroics to match._

Draco pushed that thought away as a Ravenclaw recited Sonnet 142, with the discussion on Sonnet 141 having finished and the class had moved on. It was probably another love sonnet about being disparaging about someone you had alternative feelings for.

 _I think it is nice, to admit that sometimes there is no logic in love, and despite what beliefs you may have grown up to believe about a person, to throw that out of the window because you love them_

Draco snorted at the words, he would file that away at the back of his mind, just for their Muggle Studies exam. Lacie had specifically focused on him when she had said that, as if she knew something that he did not.

Draco slammed his anthology shut, his forcing his thoughts away from Shakespeare. These sonnets were starting to drive him up the wall. Why did Elizabethans feel the need to express themselves in metaphor that would need to be deciphered centuries later? What was simply wrong with grabbing the person in front of them and expressing how they truly felt?

Not that he, Draco Malfoy, was any better. He had used Hermione for homework help, disguising it as interest in her Muggle-life. He had pushed old Wizarding belief on her under the pretence that he was educating her. He had never wanted to be her friend.

A nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that that was not entirely true.

She had not been wholly irritating when she was talking about homework eagerly, and when she was passionate about things – like Hippogriff trials, or number grids – her face lit up, and she spoke with such animation that Draco found himself staring at her in fascination.

It was one of the rare times at Hogwarts this year where he found himself _really_ smiling, and laughing.

Lacie had turned to him, still red, but managed a smirk. There was a plummeting feeling at the pit of his stomach.

 _No_.

" _But my five wits nor my five senses can  
Dissuade a foolish heart from serving thee."_

Draco found himself running from Muggle Studies as soon as the bell rang, hoping that the further he was away from Lacie, the further she would realise his sinking realisation.

x-x-x-x-x

The explanation for Hermione's erratic behaviour being caused by a new association with Draco Malfoy had seemed too neat for Ron, but he was inclined to believe it. For once, the hot-tempered redhead bit his tongue in order to keep the peace. Harry, on the other hand, didn't believe Hermione at her word. He may be quiet and reserved, but he had years of noticing things under his belt. It was a particularly useful trait when your cousin liked using him as punching bag. It was also how he realised that Hermione had been clutching something as she was Petrified.

 _It's probably what makes you a good Seeker_.

As comforting as it was to hear the back of his mind commending his Quidditch skills, Quidditch was something he didn't want to particularly think about at the moment.

So instead he focused on Hermione.

There was something odd about the way she disappeared and reappeared. At first it seemed novel, and everyone commented on it, but now Harry saw something different. Firstly, he noticed her moods. She could be irritated at Ron in one instance – which occurred far too frequently – but ten seconds later after she reappeared, she would have forgotten her ire.

Or, she would pretend to be annoyed at him even though she clearly wasn't anymore.

Then it was her eyes.

Hermione had a semi-permanent dazed look that seemed to look more dazed as time wore on. She would appear bright eyed and bushy-tailed one moment and a mere hour later, she would look _exhausted_. It was like the two hours of classes to Hermione was a tough Quidditch – Harry shuddered again at the thought again – session. That wasn't _Hermione_. She revelled in learning and classes, if anything she should be bright eyed and bushy-tailed after the day was done.

Ron had boiled it down to her classes, as the sheer amount of reading she had to do seemed to be endless. Even someone like Hermione would be tired if all they ever did was read, sleep or eat.

That was another thing that didn't add up, her classes. She never missed a Muggle Studies class, even though she was supposed to be in Divination, and she had never missed one of those classes either. How could one person be in two places at once?

 _How indeed._

It wasn't until Hermione had picked up a large textbook and was reading it over lunch, much to the amusement of Lacie, that the thought arrived at Harry. He had immediately dismissed the notion when it came to him, as it was such an outlandish option that it simply had to be fiction. There simply had to be another explanation.

Except, the idea never went away.

" _A Theory of Time_. Why are you reading that?" Lacie asked, as she tilted her head to read the spine of the tome.

"Personal enjoyment."

"Oh, you are not still obsessing over how to create time again are you, Hermione? As if you do not have enough on your plate."

"Creating time?" Ron asked before snorting, "Why don't you just travel in time?"

"Wizarding time-travel is unimpressive apparently," Lacie commented, whilst pushing peas around her plate, "Muggles have a Doctor what that is seemingly more remarkable."

" _Doctor Who,"_ Harry found himself correcting inattentively before Hermione could. She looked up at him in alarm and blinked at him. Lacie rolled her eyes as she bit into her sandwich, and Ron gaped with his mouth open.

 _It always did amuse him how everyone forgot that Harry had been brought up in the Muggle-world, despite his supposed infamy._

"It's a Muggle television programme about time-travel that I used to watch," Harry explained, Hermione still frozen in shock. "It was one of the few times that I was allowed to watch television because Dudley would be too busy hiding behind the sofa to tell on me."

Harry looked at Hermione, wondering if she knew the reference. The small smirk playing on her lips indicated that she understood. The idiom was completely lost on their Wizard-raised counterparts.

"Why would he hide behind the sofa?" Ron asked, his lunch had been forgotten in his confusion.

"Daleks."

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry's blunt response, and didn't care enough to ask what a _Dalek_ was. Lacie looked as if she wanted to ask why it would provoke someone to hide behind their furniture. Harry wondered himself how he would be able to explain exactly how terrifying a Dalek was to Ron or Lacie, considering they flinched every time he said ' _Voldemort_ '.

Hermione interrupted his thoughts as she laughed dryly as she muttered, "You should form a club with my dad."

"You should find a TARDIS."

Hermione snapped her book shut and looked at Harry with a wide grin, "I think if I had free reign to travel in time and space, I would not use it simply to attend two classes at once."

 _How could one person be in two places at once?_

At this point, Ron and Lacie were not paying attention. Ron was snickering about the fate of Lacie's mother's chicken coop and Lacie was scoffing. Hermione, however, had gone pale. She looked like Hagrid did when he had said too much. Harry blinked at her. Multiple things started to add up at once. Her mood-swings. Her increasing irritability in matters of seconds. The fact that she was attending impossible classes. Her eyes. Her constant loss of time.

Time.

Her obsession with time.

It was like pieces of a puzzle that Harry had been desperate to solve were slowly being put together.

 _Time_.

Harry must have looked like a light had switched on in his head, as a terrified look had appeared on Hermione's face. Harry blinked again, pushing his realisation away from his thoughts and reached for a sandwich. Falling into Ron and Lacie's conversation, his mouth fell open.

"You have peacocks?"

"Just two," she replied nonchalantly, "Do Muggles not own peacocks?"

" _Normal_ people don't own peacocks," Ron shot at her.

"Commoner."

"Inbred aristocrat."

Harry snickered. Hermione was staring at him, and he simply smiled at her. At that, she seemed to ease a little and rolled her eyes. "Ron's right, normal people don't own peacocks, but since when were the Malfoys normal?"

"Peasant," Lacie replied airily.

"Snob," Hermione countered.

"Plebe."

"Blueblood."

"Pureblood, actually."

"Pedant."

"You wouldn't think that you were the best of friends," Ron muttered as they continued to needle each other, then he turned to Harry and sighed dramatically. "Where do I even start with you?"

"I can make you a list," Lacie nodded before grinning at Harry. A few seconds passed, and she seemed to be aware of herself as she looked firmly away.

Harry bit his irritation at the blonde-haired girl back as he chewed his sandwich. Lacie was starting to become infuriating. On one hand, her mother was insufferable for constantly reminding Lacie of what had happened in the Chamber. On the other hand, Lacie was insufferable for constantly reminding _him_ of what had happened in the Chamber. She had apologised, alright, for what she had said at Christmas but she had placed a careful distance between them. When Ron and Hermione had fallen out, Lacie had jumped on Hermione's side as if was a life raft, just to be away from Harry.

He had promised her, he thought bitterly, he had promised that he would stay out of trouble. To his credit, he had stuck his head down and focused on school work, Quidditch and mastering the Patronus Charm. If she had paid enough attention, she would know he could now cast a silver cloud.

He had kept out of trouble, to an extent.

Harry couldn't help that the allure of the Marauder's Map was so strong. He didn't have the luxury that Lacie had, who could simply go to Hogsmeade because her parents afforded her any opportunity she wanted. Ballet lessons at Hogwarts? Piano lessons? Tea and scones with Snape? All Lacie had to do was click her fingers, and like a genie with a lamp, it would be made available for her. All Harry had was the Dursleys, who would only delight in his misery. He wanted do something because _he_ wanted to, not because the Dursleys had stopped him or because Lacie was holding him back.

She had been right though, his impulsiveness had cost him the Map and Snape's persistent scrutiny.

If only he could decode her thoughts, and get past all the barriers she was holding against him. If only he could go back in time and...

The thought of time made him look at Hermione again, who was thoroughly ignoring him. Harry didn't know if she was doing it because she was copying Lacie, or because he had slowly worked out her secret. Now that Harry thought about it, the more it actually made sense.

Hermione had a time-travelling machine and she was using it to attend multiple classes at once. Although, as Harry mulled over it, it would be difficult to hide a time machine that would constantly be accessible after classes… He wondered with a smirk if it was going to be a blue police-box that would be awaiting him after he _begged_ Hermione to show him her time machine.

It was exactly the sort of thing that Lacie would have frowned upon. It was reckless and dangerous, and from all of the television and films that he had watched, he knew that it was yet another thing that he had no business meddling in.

Oh, but did Harry yearn to meddle. He hadn't had many childhood dreams whilst growing up, but this was one of them.

The way that Hermione was almost sprinting out of the Great Hall after the first bell chimed, meant that Harry had to rush to be able to catch up to her. Ron rolled his eyes at her eagerness, preferring to wait for the warning bell before heading off to class and flinging one more insult at Lacie before leaving. Harry stood up, to the surprise of Ron, and muttered that he wanted a word with Hagrid before the class started. Ron left him to it and Harry almost ran out of the Great Hall.

The benefit to Oliver's rigorous Quidditch training, it seemed, was that he caught up to Hermione with ease just outside of the Entrance Hall. He called after her, which only seemed to spur her on. He was fitter than her though, and was carrying less books so it was only a matter of time before he pulled her aside. She looked at him with such a frightened look that Harry dropped her arm as if it was molten lava.

He took a deep breath, and it seemed like she was also preparing herself to answer anything he had to say. He looked around them and saw only the empty expanse of the Hogwarts grounds. The rest of the class hadn't left for Care of Magical Creatures yet.

"I know how you're getting to all of your classes."

Hermione didn't even look surprised, in fact, she looked resigned. She did make an attempt to deny everything, though.

"I-I don't…"

Harry felt his temper flare at his lie as he whispered, "You are such a hypocrite! You have the nerve to lecture me about being reckless and you're…"

"R-Reckless?" she spluttered, "I only use it to attend classes, not to hunt down mass murderers, Harry."

Harry smiled at her and said, "I thought you didn't know what I was talking about."

Hermione's blinked at him for a few moments before her mouth fell open. Harry could hear the cogs working in her mind, but was slightly startled when she grumbled and ground out, "I've been dropping hints for Lacie for _weeks_ , and you get it just by a vague reference about a man in a bloody blue box."

x-x-x-x-x

Professor Lupin was acting strange, Lacie had noticed with reticence.

It was not because he was off-sick perpetually and needed substituting on a monthly basis, he was still a better Professor than Professors Lockhart and Quirrell combined, but it was infuriating. It was almost the norm, and Seamus often had a running bet with the rest of their House as to who would be the next substitute. After their disastrous session with Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall had taken the mantle. There was a thousand-to-one bet that Professor Dumbledore would substitute. There was a two-to-one for Professor Snape, and someone would get a detention.

No, Professor Lupin's lunar illness was not the cause of Lacie's concern.

It had started on a rather peculiar morning, where her mother had sent her yet another package. Her mother had started showering Draco and her with parcels, cakes and sweets and quills and trinkets. It was guilt, guilt that she had been such a spineless Grindylow and ran back to their father. Draco and Lacie often stared unhappily at each other across the Great Hall at breakfast and sighed as they opened their packages.

She wondered what it would be this time. The presents were so frequent, so excessive that Lacie had to simply give it away to her Housemates. It had gotten to the point where even Ron was making requests.

 _Could you just mention it to your mum that you love those little chocolate genoise cakes?_ He had asked, after she had shoved fondant fancies at him.

That morning, her mother had sent her a small box. Inside was a note stating that she had had it commissioned, and so long as she wore it, Sirius Black would not touch her.

Curious about what could scare Sirius Black, Lacie opened the box.

Inside was a delicate necklace, with a small crest on it and when she realised what it was, she dropped the box on the table. Hermione looked up from _The Daily Prophet_ and raised an eyebrow. Ron peered over her shoulder, and she watched as his lips pulled into a frown. He was probably disappointed it was not cake, or sweets.

"What did she send you? Truffles?" Hermione asked with amusement. Of course, her best friend could laugh about truffles, a year after her brush with Doxy venom. Lacie shook her head.

"The crest of the House of Black on a necklace of pure silver," Lacie said turning the open box towards Hermione and grimacing.

"Wow, a family trinket."

Hermione lifted a cup of tea to her lips as Lacie handed her the note. She took it with her free hand.

"Pure silver," she noted after putting the note back on the table and sipping her tea, "you Malfoys are certainly not misers."

Lacie pulled a face as she pulled the necklace from the box and played with it between her fingers.

"What I do not understand is, if Sirius Black was blasted off the Black family tree, why would he respect the crest of his House enough to stay away from it?" Hermione asked.

"Well, silver is known to ward off evil," Lacie noted as she played with the chain. "It is a good charm to wear, if not completely tacky."

"And if you ever run into a werewolf, you could always throw it at him," Harry said. When the people looked at him with slight surprise, he muttered, "I did do the essay that Professor Snape set for us, you know, about werewolves."

"And here I was, mistaking you for a Quidditch athlete," Hermione said in mock disbelief. "Will you help me with my Charms homework?"

"And here I was, mistaking you for a child prodigy," Harry smiled back. "I actually have Quidditch practice, and I know how much you want us to win that Quidditch Cup."

" _No one wants the Quidditch Cup more than Wood_ ," Ron chimed in with the rest of the Gryffindors. Lacie snorted at the running joke. Even a few Hufflepuffs had joined in. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry, who only smiled at her. Lacie did not know what it was, but Harry and Hermione seemed to get on _too_ well for Lacie's liking as of late.

The green monster reared its ugly head before being forced back down with her mother's admonitions. Lacie sighed.

"Even if it wards off werewolves, how many werewolves do you know?" Ron asked nonchalantly as he shovelled a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

"That is true," Lacie mused. "Where am I going to stumble across a werewolf at Hogwarts?"

Lacie jumped back as a teacup shattered next to her as it hit the table.

Hermione dropped her teacup. It smashed as it hit the table. Hermione looked horrified as she tried to grab several napkins to clean up the mess. Lacie smirked and shook her head. Whilst she did not see the point of the trinket, she unhooked the clasp and put it on. It was still _pretty_ , and not everyone would notice or understand the meaning of the crest.

Professor Lupin did though.

Lacie had never seen a grown man smile at her one moment, and then pale. Not that, Professor Lupin, who was constantly ill, wasn't already pale but he looked as if he was going to faint. He passed it off, drinking copious glasses of water and pretending that he was alright, but his gaze would fall on Lacie and he would stutter and freeze. Ron nudged her with his elbow and whispered, "What did you do to Lupin?"

"Nothing," Lacie replied, feeling confused as the Professor downed another glass of water. He hurried through his notes, shuffled his papers repeatedly. Something was making him nervous.

Something was also making Hermione nervous, her gaze darted from Lacie to Professor Lupin several times over the course of the class. Professor Lupin raced through the homework assignments and finished the class twenty minutes early.

"Maybe he's ill again," Harry shrugged as they slowly gathered their things. Lacie had half a mind to ask the Professor if he was feeling alright, but dismissed the idea. The Professor was firmly sat at his desk, and rustling through books with agitation.

Two weeks passed, and Professor continued to teach classes. After that first class, he seemed to have regained some of his composure but he was definitely avoiding Lacie. She had tried to ask him about her essay, but he was never available for her. When he saw her in a corridor, he would turn on his heel and hurry away. If Lacie absent-mindedly played with her necklace in class, Professor Lupin would freeze and stop the class. On one occasion, a few days before he was going to be off due to his illness, he had walked out of the class after ten minutes.

Hermione knew something was wrong, and hissed in a not-so-subtle way to tuck her necklace away before her Defence class. Lacie did so, but she also pulled it out to fidget with it. She tucked it away when Professor Lupin had left the class.

 _Is Professor Lupin intimidated by the House of Black?_

He returned, looking slightly better and carried on with the class. Every so often, his gaze would slide over to her and when he noticed that her necklace was tucked into her shirt, he seemed to breathe a little easier. It was the first time in weeks since Professor Lupin taught a class so confidently that Lacie thought that the Professor was returning to normal.

Or so she had thought.

Lacie rolled her eyes dramatically when she saw Cedric leaning on the wall opposite the Defence classroom after her class. It was something that seemed to elicit a lopsided grin. He pointed at her, and gestured that he wanted to speak to her. Rolling her eyes again, she muttered to an amused Hermione that she would catch up to her. Her friend had nodded, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

"We have to stop meeting like this, people will _talk_ ," she said, nervously casting a look over her shoulder.

Cedric shrugged. "Let them talk, do you have any plans after our piano lesson on Saturday?"

"Not really, no."

At that, Cedric beamed at her, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. In fact, he looked rather nervous but he did not let it show in his next question. "Great, then how about we go to Hogsmeade after our piano lesson?"

Lacie narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips as she snorted, "You have something unpleasant planned."

He pointed at her to correct her, whilst putting himself in a defensive stance, "Your mother has something unpleasant planned."

Precisely at that moment, someone dropped a stack of books behind them and Lacie whirled around. Professor Lupin had paled again, parchment and books strewn across the floor. Cedric immediately offered to help but the Defence Professor stiffly waved his wand and everything stacked up and levitated into the air. Professor Lupin gave them a scared look before hurrying down the busy corridor, books and paper following him in his wake.

Cedric took a step back, and looked at Lacie with a sad smile. "So Hogsmeade?"

Lacie was distracted when she answered, "I… Yes, sure. Professor Lupin?"

She went to follow the hurrying Professor, but thought better of it. She looked up to see Cedric's lips pull into a lopsided smile.

"Another Professor scared by the big-bad Lacerta Malfoy?"

"N-No… He has been acting quite strangely as of late."

"He's always been strange with me, so it's nothing new with me."

Lacie cocked her eyebrow. "I thought every Professor simply adored you."

"I think it would be a stretch to say that Professor Snape adored anyone," Cedric snorted, before shaking his head. "At least Professor Lupin doesn't have it in him to be caustic."

Lacie frowned at that. She had never known Professor Lupin to be off with anybody, but he was not exactly _off_ with her either. It was as if he was frightened of her, for some reason that Lacie did not know.

"Brilliant Professor, though," Cedric acquiesced. " _Much_ better than Professor Lockhart, and also you agreed to Hogsmeade, so see you on Saturday!"

Lacie huffed as Cedric hurried down the corridor, his managing to walk backwards with a wide grin on his face. He gave her a large wave, almost knocking over a first-year who was walking behind him. Lacie nearly fell to her knees as she laughed, and Cedric profusely apologised to the blushing Ravenclaw. Running a hand through his blonde hair, he gave Lacie another wide grin before walking away, spring in his step.

If he was a different person, she might have fallen in love with him. If she was a different person, Cedric would have held her at an arm's length in case of misplaced affections. Their understanding was clear, there would be nothing beyond friendly banter, which suited Lacie just fine. On the other hand, girls like Lavender would not be fine, and would grate her _ad nauseam_ , but that was why Silencing Charms existed. Or the _Langlock_ jinx, she supposed.

Lacie strolled towards the library, wondering if Hermione would be amongst the time-travelling books or in one of the Magizoology aisles. It turned out, she was at neither and Lacie checked every little nook and cranny to conclude that Hermione was not there. Her best friend had most likely gone to the Common Room with the rest of their Housemates. She sighed in resignation.

She passed the books on jurisdiction and saw a familiar flash of blonde and smiled. She had not spoken properly to Draco for weeks, not since their barbed exchange during Muggle Studies. He had also started to skive Muggle Studies altogether, as well as keeping to himself in any other class that they shared. He spoke to her at a distance, and every so often he would catch her looking at him knowingly.

Stupidly, she had forgiven him for his comment about Harry even if she was still reeling from it. Draco would always be the one to find a weakness and exploit it, it was what made him a Slytherin, a _Malfoy_ at that. If Lacie was not so tragically noble, she may have shot back a retort.

She crept behind him as he studiously scanned the books in front of him, so closely his nose might have touched the pages. She wrapped her hands around his face, covering his eyes.

"Guess who?"

"An insufferable Gryffindor with a penchant for childish games."

Lacie removed her hands, and planted them on her hips. "Says the one who got engaged before he stopped needing the use of a teddy."

"Engaged and _dumped_ before he stopped needing the use of _Ladon_ , have a bit of respect."

She snorted, wondering how Draco managed to keep his ratty toy dragon hidden from the rest of the boys in their dormitory. She wasn't surprised that he had kept it, after all this time. Lacie pulled the chair beside him back and sat in it, propping her head up with her hand. "I missed you."

"I, on the other hand, have been far too busy to miss you."

Lacie rolled her eyes and glanced at the work in front of him. Her eyes narrowed when she saw what it was he was researched. "Why are you looking at the judicial appeal process?"

"Why are you not looking at the judicial appeal process?"

Lacie made a derisive sound, "Hermione must have ripped this library apart looking for something, but it is impossible. Father has far too many people on his side."

"Perhaps, the route that you should take should not be Wizarding and more… unconventional," Draco trailed off, and he had a mischievous look on his face. Lacie followed his train of thought and her brows knitted.

"By unconventional, you mean Muggle."

"And I think Granger might have a few ideas for that."

"I suppose, thank you," she leant down do press a kiss to his cheek and he leaned into her, despite not looking away from his books. She turned to leave, readying herself to present the idea to her friend when Draco interrupted her. "Do not tell her I suggested it."

Lacie raised an eyebrow at her stubborn brother. She asked gently, "Another one of your secrets?"

"You know she will not consider it, if you tell her the truth."

Lacie silently agreed and nodded. "Anything else?"

"Have you asked Diggory for help with the appeal yet?"

"What can Cedric do?" Lacie asked absently with amusement. "Charm them into overturning their decision?"

Draco lifted his gaze towards her, a glower firmly fixed on his face.

"Has three years of being in Gryffindor made you _dense_?" Draco asked venomously.

Lacie glared at him in response, annoyance bristling through her as she replied, "I am not _dense_."

"Then answer me this, where does Diggory's father work?"

"Department of the Regulation of Magical Creatures," Lacie snapped. "He mostly oversees the Beast... Division, Draco you are a genius, thank you, thank you!"

She kissed him again, this time on each cheek and ruffled his hair. His face went from a rosy pink to beetroot at her reaction. He muttered something under his breath, pushing her off him. He gave her a look, as if telling her to _go_ , to _hurry and tell Granger_. She beamed at him as she rushed out of the library.

First, Hermione. Then, Cedric. The appeal would be successful. They were going to save Buckbeak.

 _Draco was going to save Buckbeak_ , Lacie thought with glee as she sped through the corridors and up the Grand Staircase. She leapt over trick steps, taking two steps at a time. She saw the looks of disbelief as she ran, people unable to believe that she could run all those flights of stairs without breaking a sweat. She could give all the 'athletic' Quidditch players a run for their money with how fit she was.

When she reached the seventh floor, she noticed that her silver necklace had fallen out from under her shirt. It bobbed as she ran, and she stopped to tuck it back under her shirt. She caught her reflection in a window and stared at it. She straightened herself up, admiring the crest she was playing with between her fingers.

It was an odd thing to give, _silver_. She would have expected platinum or gold, something ostentatious and boastful. Those precious metals would be more befitting of a Malfoy. What had she said? _Silver is known to ward off evil_. Her mother had hoped that Sirius Black would be afraid of the crest once he set his eyes upon it, but that would be of little use if she had to keep it hidden from Professor Lupin. Lacie twisted the chain around her finger, and watched her reflection. It was as if the Defence Professor was allergic to silver, she mused.

 _Silver is known to ward off evil… he's always been strange with me… where does Diggory's father work?... Beast...Beast…Beast… silver is known to ward off evil… maybe he's ill again… put it away!... silver is known to ward off evil._

Hermione was squinting at a textbook when Lacie found her. She did not hesitate to ask, instead grabbing her friend by the arm and dragging her to their empty dormitory. Hermione did not struggle, and Lacie could almost hear her entertained thoughts. She gave her a look, as if to ask, _What has Cedric said to get the unflappable Lacerta Malfoy in a tizzy?_

Lacie slammed the dormitory door shut, letting go of Hermione to check that there was no other person lurking in their bathroom. She returned to see that Hermione had sat down on her bed with her arms crossed, lips curved into a gentle smile.

Lacie drew in a sharp breath before asking without hesitation, "When were you going to tell me that Professor Lupin is a _werewolf_?"

That seemed to wipe the smile off Hermione's face with in an instant.

* * *

 _a/n: two updates in one week? Well, this is a bonus as I have exams for the rest of the month and won't update during that time. Hopefully, this is my last set of exams, and adult life awaits._

 _Sonnet 141 is probably one of my favourite poems, and I have been_ dying _to use it somewhere in its entirety almost in the context I used it in. I, personally, would like to hear a recital of it without intense analysis because it's beautiful on its own but it was necessary to the plot._

 _Also, did I make Harry Potter a Whovian? Yes, I bloody did. I refuse to believe that the son of James Potter did not break the rules during his life with the Dursleys to watch Doctor Who._


	19. Interlude III

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Interlude III**

* * *

DO YOU THINK THAT YOUR EDUCATION IS BEING COMPROMISED?

DO YOU THINK YOU SHOULD HAVE A SAY?

 _Buckbeak the Hippogriff was sentenced for execution in February this year following an incident in a_ Care of Magical Creatures _class. All of the students were advised of the risks of insulting such a proud creature, and these instructions went unheard._

 _We, the students of that class, believe that such a judgment was draconian, given the temperament of Hippogriffs._

 _We believe that the execution of an animal will compromise the quality of future Care of Magical Creature classes. All classes have hazards, and one incident should not affect the quality of future classes._

 _We urge the Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures to reconsider its position and overturn its decision for execution on appeal._

 _We need YOUR help to appeal this decision. Our voices WILL be heard._

 _Please sign below to show your support._

x-x-x-x-x

Remus paced.

He was sure to bore a hole into the ground with the amount he was pacing, but he continued to pace.

He had been avoiding Lacerta Malfoy like the plague for several weeks, ever since the child had started adorning a particular necklace made of pure silver around her neck. The thought that something so simple and delicate could be so frightening was irrational, but Remus was afraid. It was as if he was conditioned to be frightened of that silly little chain, as even the smell of silver burned the back of his throat.

He could even smell it across the Great Hall when the girl twirled the chain around her finger.

It often sent him running to his office.

The blatant attack on his person from Narcissa Malfoy was made even clearer when he saw her son brandishing a new ring on his finger. Another trinket of pure silver. Another reason to hide in his office.

Remus knew he was being ridiculous. Silver was mainly harmless when he was in his human form, causing the most damage when he transformed into a werewolf. If he were to simply wrench the pendant off Lacerta Malfoy's neck it would only sting, as if pulling nettles with his bare hands. Nothing _too_ damaging, but the fear of insulting Narcissa Malfoy prevented him from doing so.

Severus Snape watched him pace with curled lips and an air of satisfaction, as if Remus had brought on this outcome himself. Snape was finally vindicated in his views that he was an unsuitable person to teach children.

 _As if Remus didn't think it of himself anyway._

He didn't know why he was thinking of confiding in Snape about his troubles. Firstly, they had never gotten along as children, and secondly, Snape had spent every waking moment he could trying to discredit him to Dumbledore. Furthermore, it wasn't as if Remus didn't have other people to talk to. There were a plethora of other Professors that he could ask for advice from, but there was an adolescent reluctance in him that prevented him. He couldn't run to his former Head of House with his problems as if he was sixteen years old again.

Perhaps it was because, above all things, he saw Severus Snape as a peer. He wouldn't understand, or respond or even listen, but he was _there_. He was there in a painful way that his former friends were not, and working with Snape made Remus feel like his childhood had been real.

Of course, his former friends and he were never particularly friendly with Snape, which was why every interaction between the two men was strained.

Remus paced.

When he couldn't take the silence any longer, he stopped and turned to Snape and asked, "What did I ever do to Narcissa Malfoy that would warrant this sort of reaction?"

"I think almost attacking her in the Shrieking Shack in our sixth year was a contributing factor," Severus replied dryly, as if he had been anticipating the question.

"You know that it was Sirius' fault, as a werewolf has no control over his or her mind during the full moon," Remus countered, "and… Malfoy made it a point to wear an ostentatious amount of silver until we left Hogwarts."

The wolf-part of his brain reminded him on a nightly basis the moment where Narcissa Black – now, Malfoy – had flung her necklace at him. He woke up, drenched in sweat haunted by the burning feeling on his chest. It reminded him of the morning after, where Sirius had laughed himself silly when he saw that Remus was effectively branded by the crest of Narcissa's necklace.

He paused mid-step, hoping that Snape would say something, instead of sipping his tea. He didn't, instead raising his cup to cover his smirk.

" _Why_ is she arming her children with silver?"

No answer.

The question had sounded ridiculously childish, not one someone would expect from a grown man and it hung in the stale air of Snape's office.

Remus continued to pace, and considered his next sentence, hoping that it would illicit more than a smirk from the Potions Master.

"It's like seeing her mother all over again," Remus started, but his sentence ended it with an involuntary shudder. Narcissa Malfoy had always been a certain brand of spiteful, even before she knew he was a werewolf. He had been slightly taken aback by the similarity between her and her daughter, and something in the deepest parts of his soul revelled he saw the fear in Lacerta's eyes during their first lesson with the Boggart.

His karmic retribution was a silver-adorned child, who was on extraordinarily on good terms with the son of a man who regulated his every move. It almost seemed too well-planned for Remus' liking.

"I would suggest you take a Calming Draught, but it may interfere with your Wolfsbane Potion," Snape's inattentive response did little to pacify him, but it was a response nonetheless.

"Lacerta looks extraordinarily like her mother, doesn't she?" Remus asked carefully. He paused and prepared his words before he started, "Do you think…"

"I am going to stop you right there, Lupin."

"But - …"

"I will not even entertain the idea of this conversation, I am not here to be your little agony aunt, so take your potion and get out of my office."

x-x-x-x-x

"I _hate_ Debussy."

"I know for a fact you _like_ Debussy, you just have a certain disregard for this particular movement."

"Fine," Lacie said as she crossed her arms and turned to face Cedric in her piano chair. He had pulled forward one of the normally unused desks and had stacked a large pile of notes and folders upon them. Even though he was due to take his OWLs in the coming month, he still had gone out of his way to punish her with movements and the like. "I hate _Clair de Lune_."

Without looking up from his dictionary, where he was following a line with the nib of his quill he said, "Well, I got paid extra to teach you _Clair de Lune_ , so you're learning _Clair de Lune_."

"And here I was, mistaken that you may prioritise your OWLs over torturing me with piano lessons," Lacie sniffed.

He looked up at that and gave her a repentant look, "I will never understand why you have a passionate dislike for this song."

Lacie bit her tongue at the remark. If Draco was in the room, she would cast him a look and he would understand. He would know that _Clair de Lune_ was the song that their mother had absent-mindedly danced to one cloudy afternoon when their father had first settled his eyes upon her. It was the poem that he whispered to her in lieu of vows, the song of the first dance as man and wife. It was no surprise that on the rekindling of their marriage that the song would make a reappearance.

She never told Cedric her reasons, merely passing it off as a quirk of hers.

"C'mon, Lace. I'll let you drag me around Hogsmeade and we'll spend some of the _outrageous_ amount of money that your mother is paying me just so I teach you the songs she likes."

She pulled a face at his attempt for negotiation and had hoped that he would note her displeasure. Her pout deepened when she noticed that he was no longer looking at her and was frowning at something in his Rune dictionary.

"I will double her offer if I can play something else for the rest of the term," Lacie offered.

"Nice try - _shite_ , that's supposed to be _bark_ , not _tree_ , I wondered why the Crup was treeing at the Goblin – I know you're also filthy rich, I _did_ see those shoes you gifted that friend of yours in Slytherin, but I don't take my orders from you."

"Foul language is unbecoming of you."

Cedric looked up, face filled with amusement and grinned, " _And_ there is that favour you asked. Your friend has _plastered_ petition posters around Hogwarts, I can't walk a single corridor without seeing a sign-up sheet."

"Hermione can be… enthusiastic."

"Well, it gets Dad off my back, too," Cedric said, Rune dictionary falling between his legs and hitting the floor. He grunted as he leaned down to pick it up. "He thinks I am finally taking an interest in a Ministry career."

"By petitioning his department?"

"Animal rights," he mused as he flicked through the pages of his dictionary to find what he was looking for, "is still a springboard to the legislature, which, in turn, is a springboard for the Minister for Magic."

Lacie snorted gently and replied dryly, "I thought it was every boy's dream to become the Minister for Magic."

"Definitely not, I want to travel after Hogwarts and perhaps gain an apprenticeship with a Professor at Beauxbatons. Did you know they study elemental magic?"

Lacie raised an eyebrow. "Yes, and in second year, you choose to specialise in several of the five magies elementaires."

He seemed to miss the bitterness underneath her tone as he carried on, excitement filling his voice.

"It must have been _amazing_ to have studied there. See, there is just so much to explore outside of Hogwarts and the Ministry. I calculated that if I carry on teaching you until I graduate, I should have enough to live modestly and travel for around five years. Six, if you learn all of the songs that your mother requests, and I'll still have enough to buy you all the Butterbeers in Hogsmeade to placate you."

Lacie could not help but smile from the passion in his voice. He ran a hand through his hair and scratched his head. When he had finished grooming himself, he pointed at the piano in front of her.

Lacie flexed her fingers as she turned back the manuscript and sighed. "Well, I am not one for crushing your dreams."

x-x-x-x-x

"This place is going to the dogs," Tracey sniffed as she thrust a stack of primly made posters onto the coffee table that the third-year Slytherins were all gathered around. "The little chit even had the audacity to stick them up to the Common Room door."

"Gryffindor tenacity knows no bounds," Blaise smirked. Tracey swatted him aside and the boy moved aside to make space for the petite girl. Planting herself between Blaise and Theo, she clicked her fingers and a house-elf appeared.

"Tea?"

When no one objected to Tracey's suggestion, she sent the house-elf off with her orders. Cordelia leaned forwards to pick one of the posters up and scowled at it.

"It is rather… unorthodox." she said, her upper lip upturning into a frown. "A petition… it rather reminds me of the Leach administration."

"Draco?" Theo murmured with a raised eyebrow and Draco rolled his eyes.

"I refuse to comment on the Leach administration," Draco replied with gentle amusement.

"Lacie is insane for tolerating this," Daphne said, as she examined her always immaculate nails. "You would think she had the good taste to avoid such scandal but you can tell she is right in the thick of it."

"Lace has fantastic taste, I will have you know," Theo protested before preening and showing off his new shoes, "the leather on these is just exquisite, your sister simply knows me too well."

"Well, one could suppose that she has been trained to be your wife-to-be since she was born," Pansy said distractedly, her gaze slid over and met Draco's momentarily before slipping back into the distance. Pansy had made it a point to limit her interactions with Draco as if he was a brick wall, which had suited him for a while.

He did not dare to admit it, but he missed his friend.

"Theo's or Diggory's?" Vince pointed out. "I would say that Theo had some competition."

"Diggory is rather handsome, and clever too… and even though he is only a fifth-year, he is pipped to be Head Boy in two years' time," Tracey said. Theo glowered at her.

" _I_ am handsome and clever, and I _could_ be Head Boy," he insisted petulantly. The Slytherins around him all rolled their eyes and he insisted on it again before huffing and crossing his arms.

"Passed over for a Hufflepuff," Cordelia said with a hint of a smirk, "now _that_ is embarrassing."

"Well I doubt that Lucius Malfoy wants a Hufflepuff in the family, anyway," Theo said stubbornly. "Malfoys have a way of getting rid of things with a bit of discretion, after all."

"I refuse to comment," Draco repeated, but this time there was no amusement. Theo had been ill-mannered to even _insinuate_ such a thing. _Off Cedric Diggory just for Theo to prove a point? Impossible._ Draco glowered at his friend, but he was too busy sulking to notice.

Sensing discomfort, Greg asked, "Where is the house-elf with our tea?"

"How should I know?" Tracey retorted airily. "If it was my mother training the elves, we would be drinking the tea by now."

"Or if it was Draco's, they would be free," Blaise added. "I heard your entire French cohort were freed to acquiesce Granger."

Draco glowered at the comment but held in his retort.

"Do Muggles not have house-elves, or is Granger just poor?" Millie asked Draco. Being the only one that took Muggle Studies, Draco found himself fielding questions about Muggles and their simplicity. This was yet another example where Draco had to explain something, and despite the subject, he enjoyed being knowledgeable in an area that his peers were not.

"They frown upon slavery," Draco explained with a false disdain, "Servants have to get paid to do work, but I suppose that does not seem entirely too unreasonable."

"Muggle Studies has softened you," Daphne complained. "Have you started comparing people to summer's days yet, or will we have those to look forward to?"

"Well, Daphne, _thou art more lovely and more temperate_ ," Draco shot back, and the girl feigned a shudder with a grin.

"Well, I do not know how much dentists are paid, but I doubt Granger is poor," Blaise added. "She is more stick-in-the-mud than the ignorant savage that we were led to believe as children."

"Dentist?" Greg asked.

"A Muggle Healer that specialises in fixing teeth," Draco snapped before Blaise could reply. He refrained from asking how Blaise knew that Hermione's parents were dentists and simply added with leftover venom, "Although, have you seen Granger's teeth? I would consider changing profession if I were them."

Someone in their group let out a low whistle which was punctuated by a small pop. A house-elf stood before them with an extensive tea service, and all conversation slowly veered towards eclairs and teacakes. Draco looked across and saw Pansy staring at him oddly, but dismissed it, simply offering Theo a strawberry tart to placate his petulant mood.

x-x-x-x-x

"Hermione?"

"Harry, we are not having this conversation again."

Harry groaned. "Look, all I want to do is go back and trip up Malfoy or something, if you're afraid of being seen, I can even go and get the Invisibility Cloak."

Hermione's quill fell out of her hand. Harry blinked at her behind his circle glasses. "You find out that I have the ability to travel in time, and all you want to do is go and trip Malfoy up?"

Hermione watched as Harry's eyebrows slowly furrowed, and he shook his head. "What else would I want to do?"

"You haven't asked me to go back and save your parents."

Harry gave her a withering look and said in a quiet voice, "Even I understand the danger of potentially creating a temporal paradox, Hermione. Maybe there are some people that are just meant to die."

Harry opened his textbook and started to read the chapter, but Hermione noticed after a while that he was simply staring at the page and his fist was clenched on the page.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - …"

"It's not like I haven't thought of it," Harry said, so quietly that Hermione had to strain to hear him. "But I also secretly watched _Back to the Future_ once, so I think that if I went back and interfered with things, Voldemort might still be alive and I would be dead."

There was an awkward pause between them. Hermione glanced back at her homework but she couldn't concentrate. She looked back up at Harry, but he was still staring at the same place he had been before.

Hermione knew that Harry had had a terrible upbringing. He was dumped on a doorstep with a letter, he grew up in a cupboard under the stairs and stayed relatively friendless for the formative years of his life. Yet, when he was told that one of his best friends had the ability to travel in time and had the chance to indulge his fascination with time-travel he didn't even consider asking her to go to save his parents. He didn't ask her to change the world for him, because he was wary of the ramifications. He only wanted to bother a certain annoying blond.

Hermione wondered if Harry's fascination with time-travel was akin to her own fascination with books, and for him it was more than just an escape. Those times he snuck to watch episodes of Doctor Who, or watch forbidden films seemed like it was the only happy thing to occur during Harry's childhood.

"It's not a blue box."

Harry looked up at her with a guarded look on his face, and Hermione dipped her hand behind the collar of her shirt. Her fingers skimmed the heavy chain underneath, and she pulled it upwards. She lifted the Time-Turner from her shirt before letting it hang in front of her uniform.

"It's called a Time-Turner, and it's limited to travelling five hours either way," Hermione explained. "Any further, and like you said, you can cause serious damage."

Harry appraised it for a moment before snorting, "You _were_ right, Wizarding time-travel is unimpressive."

"That's not even the worst of it, Who-boy."

He smiled at the moniker and leaned in closer to ask, "Not Who-boy, _Ace_."

Hermione rolled her eyes and replied with, "We are not going back in time to trip Malfoy up."

"Killjoy."

* * *

 _A/N: Happy 20 years, Harry Potter._


	20. Strike No Arm Out Further

**Disclaimer to JK Rowling**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen: Strike No Arm Out Further**

* * *

 _Once more - Will the wronger, at this last of all,  
Dare to say, "I did wrong," rising in his fall?  
No? - Let go then! Both the fighters to their places!  
While I count three, step you back as many paces!_

Robert Browning from _Before_

* * *

Hermione recoiled backwards as her mouth fell open. Her fist unfurled, as pain slowly spread across her knuckles and betrayed her actions.

 _I have just punched Draco Malfoy_ , a voice in the back of her head said with complete horror – she hadn't realised that her fist had raised in the air, and certainly hadn't anticipated that she would use said fist to punch Malfoy. She could still feel it, skin on skin, bone on bone, and the direct impact of her closed fist hitting his jaw.

She blinked.

Malfoy was sprawled on the floor, clutching his jaw.

Silence blanketed the Dungeon corridor.

She blinked again.

Blood rushed to his face as blood rushed to her knuckles. Punching another human being had been more painful than she had expected, she wondered how Lauren – her childhood bully – had done it over and over again without feeling pain. An invisible knife twisted in her gut. _Lauren_. She had just punched Malfoy, was she now a group of people that was now no better than _Lauren_? Bile rose in her throat.

 _He deserved it,_ the voice in her head was now becoming snide, _he was practically asking for it._

 _Still_ , Hermione watched as Malfoy staggered up, clutching his jaw, _it doesn't make_ you _any better_.

Hermione ran through the series of events in which it culminated in her punching Draco Malfoy in the jaw, and realised that the current state of affairs hadn't _entirely_ been her fault.

It hadn't been her fault that Professor Snape had made an unpleasant remark about Malfoy's homework, and threatened to put in him remedial potions for the less-than-stellar work he had turned in. It hadn't been her fault that Ron had arrogantly commented about Malfoy relying on Hermione for marks. It had most certainly not been her fault when Blaise Zabini – under the guise of retrieving Potions ingredients – had instead sauntered up to Lacie, and offered his name to her growing list of petitioners against the Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures, and informed her of his connections within the Ministry.

Of course, it had caused a minor disruption, and Slytherin had a single, rare House point removed for deviating from the meticulous lesson plan that their Head of House had prepared for the class.

After all the potions had been bottled, and all homework assigned, the class filed out in silence. Hermione had almost escaped the Dungeons Corridor when Malfoy, unable to hold it in any longer, had turned to Zabini and snapped, "What the _fuck_ do you think you are doing?"

The angry expletive that had fallen from his usually prim lips stalled the departing class. Everyone had whirled around to see Malfoy almost panting with fury, posturing at Zabini, who was preening with his own complacency. Nott - the yardstick of propriety - stood beside Malfoy, with his hand in his pocket, and ready to restrain Malfoy from going too far.

"I am being an upstanding member of the student community," Zabini had replied loftily, "I think it would be a waste of our educational resources to run to the Wizengamot for every occasional classroom mishap."

"Since when did you follow the political aspirations of your stepfather?" Malfoy asked acerbically and Zabini snorted in front of the crowd that was forming.

"Since when did you follow the political aspirations of your father?" Zabini then asked gently, before a smirk dominated his face. "Oh wait, Lucius Malfoy would not lose."

There was a sharp inhale at the remark, and from the corner of her eye, Hermione thought she saw Lavender Brown cup her mouth with her hand in shock.

Malfoy had once mentioned briefly that the Achilles' heel of many a Slytherin were their family, or lack thereof. It was Wizarding society gossip, and Malfoy - much like his twin - had deemed it unimportant to indulge her with the details. The fact that their opening insult was directed at each other's parents didn't surprise her, and it seemed to scandalise those around her.

"Blaise," Nott said with a warning tone before darting his gaze towards Malfoy, "Draco. This is the corridor, anything that needs to be said should be done in _private_."

"Draco is the one that made it into a public spectacle," Zabini sniffed but he allowed himself to be led away by Davies, who was rolling her eyes at Malfoy. Most of the Slytherin third-years followed Zabini and Davies, casting Malfoy an odd look as they went. Nott tried to get Malfoy to move, but Malfoy was staring at Lacie, who had a blank expression upon her face.

He strolled up to her, his earlier mood was seemingly forgotten.

"A petition, Lace? Father will have a conniption."

"After the Leach farce, I doubt _anyone_ will think that a Malfoy would organise something so… rudimentary."

"Yes, our family did tend to favour blackmail and bribery over partaking in a grassroots movement."

Hermione watched as Lacie's mouth curved upwards into a smirk. "That depends who you ask."

It was _odd._

On one hand, Hermione understood that there was a certain unshakeable bond between Lacie and her twin, and they _should_ get along. It was natural for them to get along. On the other, it wasn't so long ago that Malfoy had mocked her opinions as fantasies, and marked her down as a wannabe revolutionary. The barbed comments still stung every time she heard his voice, as if it was a reminder of her inferior blood all over again. So for Lacie, to converse with Malfoy with an amused lilt to her voice, felt like a betrayal.

"Good luck on your… endeavours. Although, I am hard pressed to see it succeed."

"And why not?" Hermione asked, unable to contain herself any longer. Malfoy's brow raised ever-so-slightly, and his gaze moved towards her even if his head didn't move to face her. _Of course he couldn't face her,_ Hermione thought bitterly as Malfoy opened his mouth.

"Because, _Granger_ , if you had not noticed, this is a _Wizarding_ school and not a Muggle one. Wizards do not identify with Muggle tactics, and if cornered, one might even whisper ' _sanctimonia vincet semper.'_ "

 _Purity always conquers_ , Hermione noted, _that damned Malfoy motto that he had loved to shove down her throat at_ every _given opportunity._

"Perhaps a little _progression_ would be beneficial for the Wizarding community," Hermione snapped. "At least half my family aren't married to each other."

If the largest weakness of an arrogant pureblooded Slytherin was his family, that was where Hermione would attack first.

The alarmed look that bloomed over Lacie's face only boiled the simmering rage in Hermione's stomach. Malfoy turned to face her with such cool composure that Hermione's foot slid back to take a step back.

Resolution forced her to stay put.

She was _not_ going to let Malfoy intimidate her into retreating.

"Really? If Muggles were so… _progressive_ ," Malfoy ran his tongue behind his teeth before he had said 'progressive' and paused again, and his upper lip curled upwards as he held his tongue between his teeth. "Then tell me, Granger, why your _Muggle_ dentist parents cannot fix those teeth of yours?"

There was a titter of laughter behind her as Hermione clamped her hand over her mouth. She could feel the blood rushing up her cheeks at the comment.

 _No_.

Her hand slid from her mouth, and she gritted her too-large teeth and glared at him.

She simply would not allow him to break her, even when he locked glares with her.

 _How foolish_ , she could hear him chastise in the back of her mind, _you should have been aware that I am the prince of tit-for-tat._

"Draco," Hermione heard Lacie growl as a warning.

"What?" he laughed dropping his gaze to the floor, "is that not true? I think some of your Housemates also agree."

"Shut up," Hermione managed to drag out, the words scraping at the back of her throat.

"Or was progression a _Muggle_ appliance that would explain your hair, because I would get my money back."

"Draco, I really think -…" Lacie tried to interrupted but Hermione stepped towards Malfoy, and through gritted teeth she said, "Shut your foul mouth."

She thought she heard Lacie sigh dramatically behind her.

"Make me, or are you too much of a _Muggle_ to do it?"

She could physically feel her temper rise with every time he said the word ' _Muggle'._ It was as if he was _above_ them and only reason Muggles existed was to incur his disdain. It was the way he said it, as if it was as dirty as her so-called dirty blood and was another punch to the gut. The content look he cast Nott was another punch.

At least Nott had the decency to look put out at his behaviour, whilst all the same, doing nothing to stop Malfoy from going too far.

Well, Hermione was not one for backing down, and snapped, "I don't need to be a _witch_ to shut you up."

"Like I am so sc-…"

He didn't even notice as her clenched fist raised in the air to smack him in the mouth.

She didn't even notice as her clenched fist raised in the air to smack him in the mouth.

It wasn't until that red curtain of rage drew itself back before she realised, with every nerve in her body freezing, what she had done. Hermione wasn't sure she breathed until she saw Malfoy gather his wits and stand up.

Malfoy tugged his jaw as he stood up, and looked somewhere behind her with a haughty look upon his face. Something akin to a smirk flashed across his smug face just as Hermione heard someone say, "Brawling in the corridor? Detention, Miss Granger, and fifty points from Gryffindor."

Hermione felt the blood rush out of her face and sore fist as she turned to see Professor Snape survey her with narrowed eyes as he looked ready to dole out his punishment. She gulped at the looming Professor, who didn't look impressed with the scene that befell him.

"Are you having a laugh? If anyone deserves detention its Malfoy for being a git," Ron spat at the Potions Master.

Professor Snape turned his attention to Ron, "If I wanted your opinion, Mr. Weasley, I would have asked for it. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Ron clamped his mouth shut with a mutinous look upon his face, unwilling to risk further deductions. If someone was counting, which every Gryffindor in the corridor most certainly were, the past five minutes had cost them _sixty_ points. They had lost two points for every _second_ in the corridor. Hermione tried not to clench her fist at how unjust the situation had become, a further reminder of Malfoy's jibes about purity.

Turning back to Hermione, he said with a sneer, "I am not an unforgiving Professor and I will arrange your detention to be completed after your exams."

A vein in Hermione's neck throbbed as she nodded curtly. The Professor's dark eyes slid from Hermione onto his next targets. Moving on he said, "Miss Malfoy and Mr. Nott, I am disappointed that you did nothing to prevent this from happening, I ought to give you both a detention as well. Be grateful that I do not write to either of your parents."

Lacie bowed, and trained her eyes to the floor, "I am sorry, Professor, it will not happen again."

"I also apologise for my failures," Nott intoned.

Professor Snape made a small noise of assent in lieu of an answer and strode in between Hermione and Malfoy, and grabbed the boy's jaw and surveyed it between his thumb and index finger. "Mr. Malfoy, wait for me in my office and no, Mr. Nott, you may not wait." Turning towards the crowd of people that were still gathered in the corridor, he growled, "And what are the rest of you waiting for?"

The crowd that had started to form in the Dungeon corridor scarpered, unwilling to risk further injury to the hourglasses that had become noticeably lighter. Hermione paled at the thought of her fellow Gryffindors turning on her for her slight. They had already shunned her over the Firebolt incident, and this was _so_ much worse.

 _Sixty points,_ Hermione mourned in her head, _we'll never catch up before the end of the year._

When the Gryffindor third-years had filed out of the corridor and into the Entrance Hall, Ron grabbed Lacie by the arm and stopped her, hissing, "What the bloody hell was _that?_ "

"What was _what,_ Ron?"

" _I am sorry, Professor, it will not happen again,_ " Ron mimicked in a nasally, high-pitched voice that was wholly unlike Lacie. "Your brother was being a prick to your best friend, but you're acting as if Hermione was in the wrong."

"And you entertained him," Harry added coolly. "You acted as if this whole petition was another grand political move to get back at your father."

"Draco has always been awful to Hermione," Lacie said evenly. "Should she punch him every time that he is out of line?"

The temper that had abated in the corridor rose again and Hermione snarled, "So you think it's my fault? That I shouldn't have been so… so…"

"Hot-headed," Lacie supplied unhelpfully. "I think the word you are looking for it hot-headed."

Hermione glowered at her friend in response.

"Yes, I do think you are in the wrong, Hermione. You forget that purebloods were raised with the belief that Muggles are nimble-brained savages, and whilst you have spent the better part of three years proving yourself - …"

"I should not have to prove myself to you inbred bigots -…"

"…to us ' _inbred bigots'_ , so you say, but using your fists to end a quarrel only affirms that belief. I would have rather you challenged Draco to a duel and hexed his pride out of him."

Hermione opened her mouth, trying to retaliate to her reasoned response but couldn't. Ron opened his mouth to say something but closed it. He dropped Lacie's arm with a sheepish look on his face. Lacie then turned to Harry with a sad look upon her face and carried on.

"Perhaps I _am_ trying to get back at my father, but I happen to approach things with a bit more delicacy than you do," Lacie said.

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning, Harry, you might be able to speak Parseltongue but I am fluent in snake..." she answered, and then a sly smile crossed her face, "and I can tell you that certain people are riled. That trick with the posters on the Common Room door _worked_."

"I'm not sure that was even worth the migraine," Ron muttered under his breath. "So what if we have support from Slytherins? There are three other houses at Hogwarts."

"That is why _I_ am in charge of the political games, and _you_ are merely grunt work," Lacie retorted.

"Grunt work," Ron repeated in a hollow voice before turning to Hermione, "did you hear her?"

Hermione snorted, and reached towards Harry, who still had a stoic expression on his face as he stared at a wall behind Lacie. She tugged on the sleeve of his robe, and it jolted him out of his reverie.

Harry turned to look at her, unaware of where the conversation was at and said, as he pulled her into a half-hug, "Sometimes I think we all need a reminder to never get on your bad side."

"You still should not have punched Draco," Lacie reminded haughtily.

"I know," Hermione said, and she tried to look ashamed but when her mind's eye flashed back to the semi-horrified look on Malfoy's face, she couldn't bring herself to look apologetic anymore. The corner of her lip quirked upwards in amusement.

Lacie rolled her eyes, and turned on her heels to walk away.

Ron shrugged his shoulders and went to follow her, bemoaning Lacie's earlier quip about 'grunt work'.

"Perhaps we could go back and stop you from punching Malfoy," Harry suggested as Hermione pulled herself free from Harry's grip.

"That's also against the rules," she replied in a singsong voice.

"You weren't thinking of the rules when you lost Gryffindor fifty points," Harry joked, and Hermione huffed at him. He continued, "One turn? Half a turn?"

"Or you could just win them back for us in the Quidditch Final," Hermione replied with a grin.

At that, Harry groaned and covered his ears as Hermione continued to tease him about his Quidditch prowess.

x-x-x-x-x

"Draco."

Draco froze at the sound of his name, before urging Eltanin to sit on an empty perch. He smiled at his unusual rook and waved a piece of bacon in front of him. The rook was quick as it snatched the slice out of Draco's fingers and chewed merrily on his treat. Draco turned around to look at his companion.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Oh, I just followed the overpowering scent of a bruised ego and desperation, and I found myself here."

Draco's hands clenched into fists as he turned back to face Eltanin. If he had wanted to be mocked, he would have lingered in the Slytherin Common Room after a wretched first-year had blabbed that he had been punched in the jaw by that insufferable Mudblood. Daphne had snorted into her hot chocolate, Greg and Vince had looked on in utter disbelief, but Blaise – to borrow a phrase from that odious book of idioms – looked like the cat that got the cream.

Only one Slytherin had chosen to follow him.

 _And of all the Slytherins..._

Pansy snorted gently, and walked towards him. "I have known you for most of my life, Draco. I probably know you better than Theo."

Draco refused to turn to face her, his pride taking over his actions, but she continued. "I know that when you think you have no one else in the world, you like to come here to remind yourself that at least Eltanin will always remain loyal."

It was Draco's turn to snort, and he raised his hand to stroke his rook with a single finger. Pansy raised hers to tilt his face towards her. She was not the tallest of the Slytherin girls, but the way that Pansy Parkinson held herself was enough to place her shoulder-to-shoulder to Draco, so, actions such as this was not onerous for one of her height. She winced as she saw the bruise that had blossomed on his pale jaw.

"That looks like it hurts. You should have gone to Madam Pomfrey for a salve."

"I am done with salves."

"So you would rather let the whole school see you like this?" Pansy asked incredulously. "How out of touch are you?"

Draco found himself tired of trying to justifying his reasons, and turned to ask to ask Pansy a question.

"How long has it been since we last spoke? A year?"

"I was embarrassed."

Draco pulled away from Pansy's hands with something akin to horror. Admitting any shortfall within her personality was rare, seeing as Pansy had always remained proud of herself. It was disconcerting for Draco, and the girl smiled weakly at him.

"I behaved above my station because I thought that my fate was sealed," Pansy said imperiously. "Then when the engagement was called off I felt ashamed because of how I had acted, and even more ashamed because I was _glad_."

"Glad?" Draco questioned with a smirk.

"Glad," Pansy repeated. "Do you remember when we were little? Lacie and I used to pretend that we would be the best sisters-in-law, and our parents had it all planned for us? Lacie was to marry Theo, and I was to marry you, and we were so happy with that."

"I remember."

Pansy sighed and walked past Draco, and towards the edge of the Owlery. He could see the sunset reflected in her eyes as she stared at the Hogwarts Grounds.

"I do not know when it started to change. I suppose it was when Lacie was sorted into Gryffindor, but we all changed. Her more than anyone, and I tried to cling on to that childish hope of what was but…"

"At last you are free and it made you _glad_ ," Draco breathed, more bitterly than he had intended.

She cast him a sad look, "For the first time in my life, it feels as if I have a choice in the matter. No expectations, or unfulfilled promises, just unhindered _potential_." She sighed, "Do you think if I had been by your side this year that you would not have run to _her_ for company?"

The identity of the 'her' lingered in the air, and warranted no explanation. Draco snorted, he had wondered how long it would take for Pansy to ask him about Hermione. He had seen it in her eyes every time that her name was mentioned, and now the girl was biting the bullet and asking him outright.

"It was not like that, Pans," Draco said, running a hand through his hair, "When we were in France, Lacie was always off with her lessons, so I spent a lot of time with… _her,_ and I-I…" Draco swallowed, "I guess I forgot why I was so against her."

"Surely when you returned -…"

"I wanted to believe that it did not matter," Draco interrupted. He let out a harsh laugh, "I wanted the fantasy to last a bit longer. I suppose I was just being thoughtless."

Pansy cupped his face and pulled it towards her. Her eyes trained onto him, as she furrowed her brows in determination. Her face relaxed as she smiled. "You, my dear, have simply always wanted things you should not have. Do you remember when Theo broke his arm and got a hamper of sweets, so you were determined to break yours?"

Draco laughed, this time it was lighter, "Of course. Father left me in the tree for hours and would not let me down."

Pansy's hands dropped, as did her light expression. "You cannot have Granger, though. Even if you spend hours rationalising it, that is one of the things you are not permitted to have."

"I know, Pans."

"You do know this is precisely why Blaise went for her. His interest in Granger is no mere coincidence following the revival of your family name. Certain things are expected of you, things that will _never_ be expected of Blaise," Pansy said.

"But why?" Draco asked, petulance colouring his tone, "After the prank last year, I thought Blaise might have eased up on our rivalry but he seems as dogged as ever."

Pansy rolled her eyes at him, "Blaise has, and I suppose always will, be jealous of you."

Draco snorted at her assumption. "Blaise has money, looks, status – Merlin, he had everything he could ever want for – what does he have to be jealous for?"

"You have the one thing Blaise does not, a mother who _cares_. A mother's love is a powerful thing, you know. Blaise's mother would rather waste her affections on men than on her son, leaving only her reputation. On the other hand, your mother simply returned to your father but apologises by inundating you with gifts. Those parcels are enough to make anyone jealous, let alone Blaise," Pansy explained. "I will admit, even _I_ have been jealous of how caring your mother is."

"Even so," Draco started, but Pansy held up her hand.

"I am not here to listen to your confession and offer you advice. I am here to tell you that playtime is over, Draco. Now get yourself to Madam Pomfrey for a salve before I _drag_ you there myself."

x-x-x-x-x

The match was getting dirtier and dirtier as the match wore on. Draco's trick with the Firebolt may have earnt him respect from his fellow Slytherins but it seemed to only spur on the Gryffindor players. If his sister was anything to go by, Gryffindors revelled in confrontation. If Hermione was any indicator, they were motivated by conflict. Draco was swirling above the rest of the players, reluctant to go back into the lion's den until he had a proper plan of attack.

He could not carry on like this.

The Gryffindors were gaining on Slytherin, and if Draco did not catch the Snitch soon, they would lose the Quidditch Cup.

Draco had _not_ pretended to be injured for an extra month, rubbing a pain-inducing salve over his arm to prolong the effects of his injury to lose to Gryffindor. Draco had _not_ forced himself through a strictly regimented training routine and kept up his grades across his arduous subjects and sacrificed at least two hours of sleep a night to fail, especially as his parents were in the crowd and watching him.

Draco was simply _not_ going to lose to Potter, not if he could help it.

He would have to resort to the only trick he knew of.

Draco closed his eyes, and tried to listen. He tried filtering out the angry boos, the incessant chanting and the whooshing of the players beneath him. He must have looked peculiar, in the air with his eyes closed and oblivious to the chaos beneath him, but it was efficient. He tried to focus on the buzzing of the Snitch. He did not have the patience that Diggory had, where the Hufflepuff had trained to recognise the magic that powered the Snitch and simply followed it. He was not like Potter, who was seemingly imbibed with Felix Felicis and could fall off his broom and _swallow_ a Golden Snitch. He was unlike Chang, who was a prime example of someone who copied another person's homework but altered it to avoid being told off. Draco only had his cunning and this forced ability to hear things better than the average person.

Draco waited until the last moment before he darted upwards to dodge the oncoming Bludger. He had heard the impact of a Beater's bat hitting the iron ball, and the tinny whistle as it charged through the air. He had kept his eyes shut as he moved, and when he was sure that the Bludger had passed, he opened a lazy eye to see a gobsmacked Weasley twin gaping at him.

If Weasley's younger brother had not sussed out his ability yet, Draco had finally given him his _eureka_ moment.

Closing his eyes again, he tried to focus on the Snitch. It was hard, with everything that he had to filter away, but manageable. There was no other sound quite like the Snitch, Draco mused. Most people would hear a buzzing sound, but _he_ could hear rhythmic humming that belied the buzzing. It was that sound he tried to listen for. Every other extraneous sound was given a compartment, allowing him to clear his mind and _concentrate_.

 _A-ha._

Draco's eyes flew open and he flattened himself against his broom and sped towards the faint humming. Draco almost forgot to breathe as he raced, ignoring the yelps of his teammates as Potter dived amongst them. Potter was so distracted in his small victory that Draco had plenty of time to try and catch the Snitch.

He was gaining on it, but a high-pitched whistling behind him only signalled that Potter had noticed him and was also gaining on him. Draco did not dare to look behind him in case he lost momentum. He could see the Snitch in his periphery, but it was still too far away.

Draco knew that there was no way that his Nimbus could outfly Potter's-bloody-Firebolt once they were neck and neck. If Draco moved to block Potter, he would have to recalibrate and listen for the Snitch again. Those extra minutes could tip the balance in Gryffindor's favour. He could not allow Gryffindor extra time to increase their point margin. There was no cheat or scam or wily action that could stop Potter from closing the gap between them.

 _There has to be something I can do!_

It was a difficult thing to concoct a plan whilst flying sixty miles per hour in the air.

There was no outwitting Potter like Chang. Draco hated to admit it, but Potter played with his instincts, just like everyone recruited onto the Gryffindor team did. It was those instincts that often won them games, it was what made the Gryffindor Chasers one of the best at Hogwarts. It was those instincts that Draco had to use against him.

If the snide accounts from Lacie were anything to go by, Potter was shockingly selfless. Perhaps, Draco could use his overwhelming sense of heroism against him.

Even if he could not hear Potter catching up to him, he could smell the desperation from the bothersome Gryffindor from miles away. Draco had to act _now_. He eyed the erratic movement of the Snitch in front of him as he lifted himself slowly off his broom. He moved his right leg upwards from the stirrup and onto his broom, placing it flush against it.

Draco had watched in first-year as Potter, a complete imbecilic novice, had balanced on a levitating broom and had studied that moment in great detail. It was that moment where Draco became determined to be able to balance on a moving broom. It had taken him several school holidays to achieve it, but he could somewhat do it.

Of course, he angrily reminded himself, never to the finesse of Potter.

The other downside to balancing on his broom was that he would compromise some of the distance he had against Potter. However, if his plan worked, then speed would be an irrelevant factor.

Breathing sharply through his mouth, Draco lifted his left foot from the stirrup and onto the broom. He filtered out extraneous noise, focusing solely on the Snitch. He could feel Potter at the tail of his broom. Draco was crouched on his broom, and if Potter played dirty, he could yank his Nimbus from under his feet.

Thank Merlin, then, that Potter never played particularly dirty.

The Seekers were nearing the stands, and Draco knew it was a matter of time before the Snitch could drop towards the ground. His plan depended on it. Potter's head was almost at Draco's ankles.

"Malfoy, what are you planning?" he heard the boy ask through gritted teeth.

Draco ignored him, focusing on his task.

The Snitch dropped down, and damning the consequences, Draco leapt off his broom to follow it.

"MALFOY!" he heard Potter yell behind him as Draco fell through the air. His limbs flailed as he fell uncontrollably, hurtling towards the ground.

 _Streamline your body!_ he heard Hermione screech in the back of his mind. He slammed his arms and legs together, as if he was diving into the pool in France again. His descent was smoother, like gliding through water as he fell. Draco did not think of slamming into the ground, concentrating his thoughts on the Snitch. It was still on its descent, but moving much faster than Draco, and zigzagging in the air.

He reached forward for the Snitch, his arms dangerously lingering where a Bludger would collide but he pulled them away at the last moment.

The Snitch was still too far away, from his reach and Draco had to reconcile the thought that it could move in a different direction, whilst Draco could not stop his fall.

Then, seemingly in a stroke of luck, the Snitch jolted upwards. Draco streamlined his body again, throwing his body to his left. He began pawing at the air, hoping that one hand would capture the Snitch. He could see the ground growing closer in his periphery but he had more important things to concentrate on.

 _Come on!_

His fingers wrapped themselves around the metal ball, and he rolled mid-air onto his back with a large grin on his face. Potter was miles above him, his hands still outstretched as if to try and pull Draco to safety. Horror crossed his face when he realised that his actions had cost him the game. As Draco felt the ground near, he closed his eyes, _hoping_ that someone would catch him before he hit the ground.

Even if he did hit the ground, he did not mind, because it was him – and not Potter, for once – who was the hero.

* * *

 _Because, maybe just for once, Slytherin wins._


End file.
